


it wasn't supposed to be like this

by jellydonut16



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, DANCER!YUURI, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Non-Penetrative Sex, Pining, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Stripper!Yuuri, The thirst is real, Viktor's still a sweetheart in this, all the russians are pornstars, camboy!Viktor, dance instructor!Yuuri, eventual Viktuuri smut, except for Yuri, explicit content from the get go, he's a smol angry 15 year old (still), pornstar AU, pornstar!Viktor, size queen!Yuuri, viktor is a dork
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:37:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 66,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9849512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellydonut16/pseuds/jellydonut16
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov, AKA Vitya, is the Living Legend™ of modern-day porn, who has always thrived on surprising his audience. Though his viewer count has never dwindled once, he finds himself bored of doing the same thing. So his manager, Yakov, sets him up with pole-dancing lessons Viktor can add to his repertoire, taught by a man who goes by the name ‘Eros’.This guy, Eros doesn’t know it yet, but he’s in for one hell of a ride (if you know what I mean).OrAU where Viktor is a pornstar, Yuuri is a dance instructor, and Yuri is Viktor’s cousin who is 2000% done with everybody's shit





	1. one

“Fuck. _Fuck._ I’m so close,” Viktor growls out, body slightly twisting towards his left, muscles gleaming with a mixture of sweat and massage oil. The girl, naked and on her knees before him, closes her eyes as Viktor pulls his cock out of her mouth, jerking himself to the very brink. The money shot, as Viktor cums all over her face and chest, mouth wide open and tongue waggling about to catch the spurts of white.

 

“Cut! And we’re done,” the director yells out.

 

Viktor lets out a sigh he hadn’t realised he’d been holding in. Several assistants rush to the set, one of them handing Viktor his silk robe, which he immediately puts on after cleaning himself off with a baby wipe. Another assistant helps the girl— she was relatively new, Sara was it? Crispino?— into a lacy black robe. She reaches for the pack of wipes and begins to clean herself off.

 

He makes his way off set and walks to the craft service table, grabbing a bottle of water from the red Coleman cooler next to the bowl of Lays before heading to his dressing room— where he has his own wardrobe, his own dressing table, and most importantly, he has it _all_ to himself. He _is_ Vitya, after all— the main talent, the Living Legend™ of modern-day porn. Even though he was still relatively young at the age of twenty-eight, he’s spent a decade in the industry, which is far more longer than most people he knows.

 

Not once has Viktor ever grown _stale_. He’s always been a favourite, and it has been his greatest pleasure (both figuratively and literally) to surprise his audience, and though it technically still _is_ pornography, it wasn’t something cheap you could just bust a nut to. There was an artistic quality to his work that was entirely unique to him.

 

He remembers his ascent to popularity when he was younger, silver hair down to his narrow waist, and he explored the sexual aspects of androgyny like no other had before. How he’d kept his viewers on the edge with every peek and tease of the next video. How he’d always keep them guessing.

 

Viktor locks the door behind him when he gets to his dressing room. There’s a couch tucked to one side, a coffee table in front of it, and on the other side, he has his walk-in wardrobe filled to the brim with all sorts of costumes, props and toys. Beside it is his en suite, which was what truly marked him as a VIP (aka a Very Important Pornstar™). He saunters over to the vanity table, the lighting highlighting his chiseled and defined features, and he studies himself in the mirror for one moment.

 

He’s sweaty, and his hair is dishevelled, clinging annoyingly to his forehead. He doesn’t have any marks or any hickeys on him— it was in his contract— but from where the ‘V’ of his robe starts to dip downward, he can see red lines raised on his skin. His lips are still puffy from when he’d kissed Sara, sloppy open mouth kisses that mainly consisted of chasing tongue. And then there are his eyes. They were an icy blue with some flecks of cerulean, but now his gaze was flat. His eyes looked dead and slate grey.

 

Again, he sighs.

 

He used to love his job. Or, maybe perhaps he still does, but these days (and not just in the recent months), he’s been feeling pretty lukewarm about his job. It doesn’t give him that same buzz of excitement it used to. The feeling’s gone now, replaced by one of passive discontent and a lack of inspiration to put effort into anything anymore. That doesn’t mean his performance’s gone downhill, of course, but everything blends into the same dull thing day after day. Just like any regular desk job, only instead of filing papers, you have sex.

 

Viktor hasn’t any experience working anywhere else, so all of that is just from speculation. But _bottomline is_ , Viktor _knew_ he couldn’t go on like this any longer. He needed to talk to his manager. He needed to talk to Yakov.

 

* * *

 

Yakov Feltsman was a famous director back in the seventies. A lot of his most prominent works back then were some crazy psychedelic pornos which some people still watched today, as well as a number of independently released not-porn films. Mostly thriller, suspense. Sometimes erotic romance.

 

Anyways, Yakov’s work as a director was leagues better than the crummy pornos also prominent during that time, with plots so _ridiculously_ stupid, if you edited all of the sex out, it’d just make you want to curl up into a ball and die of second-hand embarrassment.

 

Years later, Yakov eventually opened up his own studio, where Viktor had worked ever since he turned eighteen. He was Viktor’s manager then, and he still was now, even though he had so much more on his plate. Yakov says it was to save other people the burden of having to deal with Viktor’s diva-like tendencies and theatrics. Viktor suspects it’s actually because under all that grumpiness, Yakov’s a giant softie inside. (And he is.)

 

When Viktor bursts into Yakov’s office later that afternoon, unannounced _as always_ , Yakov barely spares him a glance but he can just _tell_ from that look in Viktor’s eyes that it’s something serious; an expression he’s rarely seen on the man even though he’s known him for years now.

 

“What is it, Vitya?” Yakov asks. ‘Vitya’ wasn’t always Viktor’s stage name. At one point, it was a diminutive of Viktor’s own name, a nickname given to him by Yakov himself. And when Yakov referred to him as such, he wasn’t Vitya, the world-renowned pornstar. He was just… Vitya.

 

Viktor takes a seat by Yakov’s desk, brows drawn together. “Yakov… I need a break.”

 

Yakov’s eyebrows practically shoot up to his hairline. _What?_

 

Upon receiving no response, Viktor continues, “It’s just that my heart isn’t really in it anymore. It just seems like it’s the same thing. I can’t really surprise my viewers anymore like this, and I don’t want to disappoint them just because I’m not feeling it.”

 

“So you need a break.”

 

Viktor bites his bottom lip then nods. “Yes. At least, just for a little bit. Just ’til I can pull myself together. It’s just that— I want something _new_ , I want something _exciting_!”

 

Yakov studies him carefully, leaning forward to open a small white box and reaching for a booklet inside it. “Well, you can always do some livestream sessions when you have the time. Your viewers always did enjoy those. Vitya, do you know those virtual reality headsets that have been going around lately?”  


 

Viktor looks at him nonplussed. “Yes, why?”

 

Yakov sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I know our studio’s a bit late to jump on the bandwagon for this, but I think it would be a good idea if we tried making our own virtual reality content. To your viewers, it would feel like you’re in the room with them.”

 

Viktor’s eyes grow wide at this.

 

“It doesn’t _need_ to be sex straight-away. Or even sex at _all_. You can start with foreplay or use toys or…” Yakov trails off, something akin realisation washing across his features as his gaze lands on the one picture Viktor knows the man could never bear to get rid of. It’s one of Yakov’s ‘eureka!’ moments, and it nearly drives Viktor mad wanting to know exactly just what it is.

 

“I have an idea,” Yakov starts, “How about taking pole-dancing lessons during your time away? That way, we can go straight to filming VR content when you come back.”

 

Viktor pauses for a moment to take it in. Immediately, all sorts of ideas start to fill his head, and as much as he wants to make these ideas a reality straight away, he doesn’t have the skill set required of him for this.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” he says, almost viciously, impassioned. “I’ll do it!’

 

“Good,” Yakov drawls, reaching for his phone. “Lilia had this protégé who’s now a pole-dancing instructor. They say he’s really good. I don’t know his name, but they call him Eros. Christophe probably knows him.”

 

“Eros,” Viktor says experimentally. _Sexual love_. Without even knowing this Eros, Viktor already looked forward to meeting him.

 

* * *

 

“Viktor, you sly dog!” Christophe Giacometti chortles, clapping a hand on Viktor’s back. They’re at a bar downtown— one they like to frequent whenever their shoots ended early. “What’s this I hear about you getting _pole-dancing lessons_? From _Eros_ nonetheless!”

 

Viktor smirks at his friend-slash-costar, casually shrugging his shoulders. “Yakov suggested I add something to my repertoire, so why not? So… you know, ah, _Eros_ , right?”

 

Chris smiles warmly, nodding, “Yeah, I do. I used to attend the same classes as him before, and he’s a really great kid! _Talented_ dancer too.” Then his voice drops to a low whisper as his expression turns lewd. “ _Amazing_ ass. And this is coming from _me_ , the Ass Man!”

 

They both burst out laughing, clutching their drinks tighter so it wouldn’t spill over. “Out of all the names you could have chosen,” Viktor sobs, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. “You fucking end up with _Ass Man_.”

 

“Hey! Ass is my specialty, alright? I love me some gluteus maximus.”

 

See, Christophe’s work bordered more on the _hardcore_ side of things, but he was especially fond of ass. And when there would be close-up 1080p shots of his ass, Christophe had this _thing_ where he would fondle his butt and even though he had a _firm_ butt, it’d still jiggle, and it drove the viewers _wild_. Someone even made an ass compilation of all of Chris’ close-up ass shots, and people  _knew_ he was the ass man, so they started to call him Ass Man, and the name just _stuck_.

 

Even though Viktor’s worked with Chris _many_ times before, he couldn’t help but _at least giggle_ whenever he heard Chris’ stage name. It sounded like a really fucking weird superhero who saves the day with the power of his mighty ass. That… wasn’t a bad idea for a parody, actually.

 

But, like, what would he even _do_? Butt slap his enemies? Fuck them into submission? Or maybe he could twerk so he could make his ass clap, and it’d make, like, _supersonic waves_ that would—

 

“—to Viktor! Earth to Viktor, is anyone out there?”

 

Viktor snaps out of his thoughts and redirects his attention to the man sitting before him. “Sorry, what?”

 

Chris sighs in mock sadness. “Who _else_ could you be thinking about when you’re with _me_? Am I not good enough of a conversational partner, Viktor?”

 

“Ah, sorry,” Viktor says lightly, stifling a chuckle. If only he knew.

 

* * *

 

The dance studio Lilia Baranovskaya owned and managed was thankfully just a 30-minute walk away from Viktor’s apartment. She had all sorts of dance classes going on there, and whenever Viktor would pass the building, it never seemed to stop playing music. And he was right again, it seemed. When he walked into the room where he’d have his class, the area spacious and poles equally set apart, there was music playing. Catchy poppy stuff.

 

There were already people in the studio, all women. They preoccupied themselves with stretching or conversation, but the moment their eyes landed on Viktor the whole room— save for the music blasting on the speakers— fell silent. Viktor gave them a disarming smile and a coquettish wink, and the reaction is instant. They start talking more animatedly to each other now, often sending glances his way.

 

He sets his bag down and lingers near one of the unoccupied poles near the front. He grabs the pole and experiments with his grip. He can feel their eyes preying on him like a hawk from across the room. He gets this vague feeling he shouldn’t have winked at them in the first place. But he’s _Vitya_ after all. His livestream shows gets tens upon thousands of viewers by the minute. He can deal with a group of women no problem!

 

Someone up front claps their hands, catching everyone’s attention including Viktor’s. His eyes widen and he _swears_ his heart must have skipped a beat, because the man up front is hands-down _gorgeous_.

 

“Good morning everyone! Welcome to our Pole-dancing For Beginners class!” _He_ says, jet black hair slicked back, and his brown eyes are twinkling under the lights of the studio. He’s smiling at all of them amiably, but the moment his gaze falls on Viktor, he does a double-take and his face starts to flush a light crimson. Viktor can feel his cheeks starting to redden in return. _Oh._ “I’m Eros, and I’m going to be your dance instructor!”

 

Not even five minutes in, Viktor already knows this is going to be the start of something _beautiful_.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor's Thirst™ is real.

Ten minutes into the actual class, Viktor is unprepared for how unprepared he is. Like, sure, with his line of work, he went to the gym everyday, ate well, and had more than enough, ah, _flexibility_ for whatever positions he’d be in throughout the day. But this? This was a helluva lot more different.

 

Plus, it didn’t help at all that he was a bit… _distracted_. Part of his attention (and it was a really huge part, okay, like 99%) was dedicated to the very, _very_ handsome dance instructor in front of him. The worst part about that was that it wasn’t even in, like, a relatively productive way where he could actually _learn_ something. Yeah, he paid attention. But not in the way that was required of him for this.

 

No, no; instead, the moment Eros led them through their warm-up stretches, facing the mirror that took up an entire wall, bending down and touching the tips of his toes with his feet facing forward and legs evenly spread apart, Viktor’s brain took it as its cue to ogle at the man’s ass (it was just right there?) for some reason.

 

And you know what? Viktor didn’t even feel remotely guilty for shamelessly staring at the guy’s ass. Maybe he will later, most likely when Eros was no longer in sight, but not _now_.

 

_Chris was right_ , Viktor thinks to himself, blue eyes wide with a type of reverent, silent awe. Chris was _so right_. Eros’ ass _is_ amazing. No, no, it wasn’t just amazing. It was _Amazing_ , yes, with the capitalised A, because Eros’ butt deserved it and _so much more_. Keep in mind that Viktor’s seen more ( _way_ more) than his fair share of butts to know this. He considers himself an expert on the subject, though not an ass connoisseur like Chris is.

 

All this musing about Eros’ ass goes on as the aforementioned man changes from position to position, all the different stretches meant to work on one’s core muscles. Viktor absently follows through with every pose, of course, but he pays little mind to actually doing the stretches properly, which’ll probably bite him back in the ass later.

 

God, he just looks so _bendy_. So flexible. Viktor briefly wondered how many different positions the man could possibly manoeuvre himself into. All of them probably, with relative ease. He mentally goes through some of the crazier positions he’s seen in his copy of the Kama Sutra. Viktor bites his bottom lip, tilting his head to the side slightly. Yep, he definitely could. But before _that_ particular train of thought could go any further and affect Viktor _physically_ , he forces himself to shove that thought on the back burner.

 

Eros leads them through the last few positions for the cool down, a sun salutation sequence that leaves his tight white tank top riding up his toned and firm stomach at the very end, a tempting reveal of skin. His black pole shorts cling to him like a second skin. He turns around, clapping his hands and smiling at everyone. “Alright! Do we feel great?”

 

A scatter of ‘yeses’ or ‘yeahs’ in response.

 

He beams at this and it feels like the wind has been knocked out of Viktor’s chest. _Wow._ “That’s great! So do we have any first timers here?” He raises his hand in encouragement for others to do the same. “Any first timers here?”

 

Viktor raises his arm over his head, the odd stuttering of his heart repeating itself again when Eros redirects his attention to him. _Him_! “Hi,” Viktor breathes out, catching himself at the last second and sending Eros a dazzling smile. “I’m Viktor.”

 

Eros’ eyes widen a fraction, crimson dusting his already ruddy post-warm up complexion. “O-Oh.” He licks his lips and Viktor watches the small unconscious movement with great interest. “Well, it’s great to have you here Viktor! I’m sure you’ll find that pole-dancing is a great workout since it uses all of your muscles.”

 

He then turns to the rest of the class, hands on his hips. “So would anyone like to come up front and show Viktor what we learned last week?”

 

There is no immediate response, but the group of women on the other side of the room are talking fervently to each other, giving each other light shoves. That’s when a woman decides to come up, dressed in a sports bra and pole shorts, with heels to match.

 

“Wow, you’re wearing heels already!” Eros notes.

 

She smiles back at him, “I learned from the best after all!”

 

He steps back to give her space, and she positions herself, grabbing the pole before lifting herself up and doing a quick spin around the pole. “So what Tasha is doing right now is the _fireman spin_. It’s one of the basic spins you’ll be learning in this class. Great work, Tasha!”

 

He gives her a high-five and she hurries back to her place. “Today I’m going to be teaching you a variation of the fireman spin— there are several— and what we’ll learn how to do today will be the fireman spin with a straight leg.” He suddenly pauses and turns to Viktor. “I’ll get back to you in a second, okay? I’ll just show them this.”

 

Viktor nods, _all_ too happy to watch Eros move about without having to do anything that would require him functioning like an actual human being. Eros slips his feet out of his white trainers and pulls his socks off, and Viktor can’t help but admire the man’s shapely legs.

 

Eros reached for the pole and sauntered around it before lifting himself up and doing the same spin from earlier, only with a leg stick straight and kicked out. He slowly swivels down and around the pole before lifting himself up slowly, back arching into a curve as he did so.

 

Viktor short-circuited right then and there.

 

Holy shit. _Okay_. So… D-Don’t be fooled, because Viktor isn’t _always_ this thirsty alright? Just because he happened to be a sex worker, people assumed all he thought about was sex, or that he was horny and ready to go all the time, but that wasn’t the case. Well, when he was younger and immature, he _used_ to be. He couldn’t get enough of the feeling, wanting to fill or be filled, or even _both_ at the same time (double-penetration is always fun with the right people, just saying).

 

But somewhere along the way, he grew the fuck up— Yakov would probably attest to that— and learnt how to _not_ think with his dick all the time. Being surrounded by naked bodies throughout the day, everyday, over the span of a decade could do that to you.

 

Yet for some reason, Viktor felt like he was sixteen all over again, his face flushed red and his heart beating out of his chest. All this, over someone he’s known for over the span of, what, around half an hour? and _isn’t_ someone he’s going to bone in front of a camera any time soon.

 

Eros was beautiful, but Viktor’s seen a lot of beautiful people before and yet none of them had ever had this effect on him. _Ever_. No, there was just something… _something_ about the man before him that drew Viktor in. He really wanted to get to know him better, and not just in a purely carnal way, no.

 

Which, again, was strange.

 

He never really felt that way about anyone else before. Was that weird? That was probably weird. He’ll ask Chris about that later.

 

“Viktor?” A voice pipes up right in front of him, and before he can even prepare himself, he’s staring right into the pretty brown eyes of Eros the dance instructor, and even though he’s smiling, Viktor can sense a bit of hesitance in his expression. He’s holding his phone, scrolling through his message app, grey and blue message boxes filling the screen. He squints at the screen slightly. “I mean, it’s Viktor, right? Lilia sent you?”

 

“Oh,” Viktor breathes, letting out a light laugh. He leans back onto the balls of his feet and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, she did.”

 

Now that they’re standing face-to-face, Viktor can study the man’s face better. And it’s actually less of studying him, and actually more of _admiring_ him. Eros is a _very_ beautiful man, Viktor decides. His eyes, warm and brown with long dark lashes framing them, are his favourite feature. Next would be his lips. They looked soft and pink. Inviting. Viktor subconsciously licks his own lips.

 

“Yeah, she told me that you were interested in taking lessons a few days ago,” Eros continues, seemingly oblivious to Viktor’s staring. He glances up at him, brows knit together. “Um, private lessons?”

 

And this is much the point where Viktor finally snaps out of it, doing a double-take. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

“Private lessons,” Eros reiterates, “But it’s okay if you want to take classes with everyone else—”

 

“Oh, right!” Viktor interjects quickly, even though honestly, he didn’t know _jack shit_ about these private lessons in the first place. He’d have to bring that up with Yakov later. “Yes, yes, private lessons! I remember now. The thing I discussed with Lilia. Private, like, just between—” He vaguely gesticulates between them, “you and I! Alone! Together!”

 

_Viktor_ ** _stop_**.

 

Eros looks at him weirdly before his face flushes a deep shade of red. Did he always blush so easily? Viktor eyes the redness crawling up to the tips of his ears and down his neck, and wonders how much further that flush could go. How much further he could _make_ that flush go.

 

“Yeah, so.” He takes a deep breath and collects himself (for what though?). “About that, I’d like to discuss _when_ our lessons could be since I have another job and I still have to teach the group classes here. And, of course, we’d still have to fit it in whenever _you’re_ free.”

 

“Anything is fine with me, really,” Viktor says easily, beaming at the shorter man. (And the height difference! Unf, so _cute_.) “I have flexible hours.”

 

_But that’s not the only thing about me that’s flexible._ He almost says it out loud. But he doesn’t, thankfully.

 

“Great!” Eros says, smiling back. “I’ll get back to you on that after class then, alright? Now, about proper attire, since you’re a beginner, you can wear something you’re comfortable in, maybe a shirt and gym shorts? But you should get a dance belt. That way, some of the spins won’t hurt or, well, burn as much.”

 

Viktor quirks an eyebrow up. “What’s a dance belt?”

 

“Oh!” Eros shrugs his shoulders. “It’s not really a _belt_ per se, but more of like… a _thong_ for men? Sorry if I’m making it awkward, I don’t know how to explain it any other way!”

 

“No, it’s fine,” Viktor says, winking at him playfully. He’s worn way less anyway. He’s spent much of his adult life buck naked in front of a camera, so he probably won’t think about it too much.

 

Eros clears his throat. “ _Right_. So let’s start with basic posture, how to make your way around the pole and how to hold it the correct way.”

 

Viktor’s smile falters a bit. He could have done with a bit more flirting, but… right. He wasn’t here to flirt. He was here to learn how to pole-dance. Now if he could only _remember_ that, that’d be really great.

 

(But he got the vague feeling that he was already far too gone for that.)

 

* * *

 

Viktor walks forward for several seconds, only to come to an abrupt stop. After a moment, he continues walking the length of a few metres, only to stop again. He waits for several seconds before walking again, lasting long enough to cross the street before stopping again.

 

This time, Yuri finally turns to face him, exactly _five metres away_ from where Viktor stood (any closer was a violation of Yuri’s breathing space, apparently). Shit, if looks could _kill_ , Viktor would probably be dead on the floor right now. More than dead, even. Like, _super_ dead. So dead, it transcended into turning into a zombie and it brought him back to existence as a member of the undead. And _maybe_ it’d even give him superpowers. That’d be so awesome.

 

The blond waves him off with a flick of his wrist, a pinched look of pure and utter distaste on his face. “Shoo! Go away! I don’t want you here!”

 

Then he turns on his heel and stomps off. Of course, Viktor doesn’t listen and soon follows the boy down the street, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his brown jacket. Yuri comes to an abrupt stop and Viktor, once again, does the same.

 

“Why are you fucking _stalking_ me?!” Yuri grits out, stomping his foot on the ground for emphasis. “Didn’t I tell you to, like, fuck off a hundred fucking times already?”

 

“Language, Yura,” Viktor chastises, a shit-eating grin on his face which turns into a pout too quickly to be true. “I just wanted to spend some time with my _favourite cousin_. Is that so bad?”

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Yuri bites back without missing a beat. In his anger, he inches closer and closer to Viktor, breathing space bubble be damned. “And for the record, I’m your _only cousin_. Now go leave me alone! Or else I’ll kick you in your money-maker.”

 

Viktor fakes a sniffle. “So mean! Why do you want me to _leave_ , Yuri?! Are you _ashamed_ to be with me?”

 

“ _Yes_!” Yuri says again, and Viktor should _really stop asking him questions like that_. He isn’t sure if his heart will be able to take it in the long run. Really, it just— it fires back on him every time. _Every. Single. Time._ “It’s— It’s fucking _embarrassing_ , alright? I don’t like being seen in public with you, when half the world’s already seen your dick!”

 

Haha, _right_. About that. Poor kid, Viktor’s pretty sure his being a pornstar’s turned Yuri off from watching porn _ever_. Like most people, he’d probably feel disgustingly repulsed with the notion of going on a website and seeing thumbnails of his cousin taking it up the ass (with close-up shots!).

 

_Anyways_ , it’s Viktor’s turn this time to wave him off, a faux naïf heart-shaped smile on his face. “Now, now, Yura! People barely recognise me as Vitya in person. And even if they did, like _any_ one would want to point that out in public, right?”

 

Yuri stays silent, save for the slew of curse words he mutters under his breath.

 

“Plus, I have a sworn duty to protect you from the dangers of crossing the street!”

 

The blond glares at him, nostrils flaring. “No you fucking don’t!” He exclaims, gesticulating to the street they’ve just crossed. “I _literally_ just crossed the street without your help. I cross the street to the studio every _day_ without _your help_. I’m fifteen! I don’t need a baby sitter!”

 

Viktor raises his hands up in a placating manner, laughing. “Since when did I ever say anything about _babysitting_?”

 

“Ugh, just shut up! Literally why are you here? This isn’t even your day off to make my life a living hell!” Then Yuri pauses, a calculating look on his face.

 

“I just wanted to walk you to the studio!” Viktor says, laughing a bit nervously.

 

See, now, here’s the thing. Viktor wasn’t sure if it was merely a coincidence or something beautifully fated and orchestrated by cosmic design— he was inclined to believe the latter— but his cousin, Yuri, happened to take up ballet at none other than Lilia Baranovskaya’s dance studio. Yep. The same one. And since his private lesson with Eros was later in the week, he had no other reason to be at the dance studio.

 

…Unless if he were to take Yuri to his classes, that is. Then maybe Viktor would happen to run into his dance instructor again out of ‘Pure Coincidence’ and have a somewhat decent excuse to talk to him for, like, maybe five minutes. Maybe, if he wasn’t busy, ask him out for a coffee?

 

Just to talk about their lessons together, that is! And in no way whatsoever was he intent on taking the aforementioned dance instructor out on a date.

 

(Hint: he’s lying.)

 

In the end, Yuri, bless his soul, had allowed Viktor to accompany him to the studio, and with further insistence and a bit of bribery— “I’ll treat you to ice cream if you let me stay!”— Viktor made it all the way to the double-doors leading to the ballet studio. As Yuri pushed the doors open to step inside, Viktor could see other people already inside. Then he sees someone who looks _overwhelmingly familiar_ , and he just _has_ to know who it is. He quickly latches onto Yuri’s wrist, feeling his heart pounding against his chest. “Yura! Who’s _that_?”

 

The man in question had blue-rimmed glasses on, but his _face_ and those _eyes_ , it _had_ to be him, it _had_ to be—

 

Yuri’s more than pissed off, but he follows Viktor’s line of sight anyway. His face scrunches up in distaste. “Oh, that pig? Can you believe it? We have the same fucking name, and this studio’s too small for the both of us. There can only be _one_ Yuri, and that’s gonna be _me_.”

 

This man’s name… Eros’ real name was Yuri? Well, only one way to find out, right?

 

“Eros! Hi!” A number of people turn to look at Viktor, but he pays them no heed.

 

Yuri’s eyes practically pop out of his head. “Wait, what? You _know_ this guy?”

 

Eros turns to look at them before he jolts as if he’d been poked with a sharp pencil. He glances nervously at Yuri, standing behind Viktor with an astonished look on his face. What.

 

What’s going on..?

 

“Hi, Viktor,” Eros greets politely, adjusting his glasses. “Um. Why are you here..? Are you taking up ballet too?”

 

“Oh! No, no, I just came here to drop my cousin off. I’m sure you know him.” Viktor says, pointing to Yuri, who’s now looking at him with rather fervent disapproval.

 

Eros nods at this. “Yeah, I know him.”

 

“So your name is Yuri too, apparently?”

 

‘Yuri’ flushes, glancing away. “Well, it’s pronounced Yuuri, actually.”

 

Viktor mulls over this for a moment before he says Yuuri’s name, the syllables rolling smoothly off his tongue. “ _Yuuri_. Such a cute name!”

 

“…Thanks.”

 

Ah, was Yuuri always so terribly _shy_? Viktor couldn’t help but find it a bit endearing.

 

“You can stop hitting on each other now! _Out_ , Viktor.” Yuri growls out, catching both of their attentions.

 

Yuuri’s face reddens tenfold while Viktor laughs it off. “Calm down, Yura, I’ll go in a sec!” Then he turns to Yuuri and leans in closer, icy blue eyes half-mast. “I’ll see you soon, _Yuuri_.”

 

With that, Viktor smoothly makes his way out of the room, but not without taking a glance behind him just as he closes the door behind him.

 

Yuuri looks like he’s about to faint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys!! can i just say-- i am super SUUUPER happy and overwhelmed w how much feedback this fic got!! thank u guys so much! so yeah im doing this
> 
> we're really doing this
> 
> no backing out now lolol
> 
> im too far gone (save me)
> 
> hh hope this chapter was good! pls leave a comment and/or kudos ! ily all ♡❤️
> 
> also also-- im thinking maybe i can post chapter status updates? so y'all know at least how much progress i have on my chapter updates- what do u think? my tumblr is ragdollyouth but i also post on my fb page jellydonut16


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor rhapsodises about Yuuri to his dog, then laments the start of many of his gay woes to Chris.

After that _fateful encounter_ with Eros, aka Yuuri (and _don’t_ even try to convince Viktor otherwise, because he’ll just ignore you), Viktor heads straight home with his head in the clouds. His poodle, Makkachin, is there to greet him with open arms (paws??) the moment he opens the door, nuzzling Viktor’s hands and his tail wagging to and fro.

 

“Hi Makkachin!” Viktor exclaims, and because he feels so giddy and excited, he gets down on his knees and swoops his poodle into a big hug. A lilting laugh escapes his lips as Makkachin licks the side of his face in greeting. “I ran into your future daddy today! He just doesn’t know it yet.”

 

He carries Makkachin in his arms and gets up, a laboured grunt leaving his lips, before he walks to the couch and flops down on it. Makkachin scrambles out of his arms and back down to the floor. Viktor cups his dog's face and _moosh_ -es his cute li'l cheeks up towards him. “Ugh, you should’ve seen him, Makkachin! He’s so _handsome_! You know the feeling, don’t you? I’ve seen the way you sniff the neighbour’s chihuahua down the street.”

 

Makkachin squirms out of Viktor’s grasp and leaps back onto the couch, and, consequently, on Viktor. The man lets out a choked yelp, moving the fluffy dog’s paws off his stomach and beside him on the couch.

 

“You want to know more about him, don’t you?” Viktor asks of his poodle, and receives wet, slobbery kisses in response. “Great! Okay, so his name is Yuuri— so _cute_ , right?— and he’s a dance instructor at Lilia’s studio! I don’t know his last name yet, but I’ll save that for later. After all, he can have mine, right, Makkachin?”

 

A dreamy sigh escapes his lips. “He has the most _amazing_ eyes. They’re like a maze, I could get lost in them for hours. And they’re, like, _smouldering_. And he seems like such a good person even though he’s always so _shy_ , and when he smiles, it’s like I can hear the skies opening up and the angels singing.”

 

He shifts to his side so he could look at Makkachin properly, his smile growing tender. “I want to know him better, Makkachin. I think you’d really like him too!”

 

Makkachin leans forward and licks up Viktor’s nose. The latter instantly recoils, eyes squeezed shut as he wipes his nose on his sleeve. “Okay, okay! I’ll stop now, but _just you wait_. Once you meet him, you’ll understand.”

 

Viktor pulls away and stares at the ceiling. “Maybe I should call Chris. Maybe— _Maybe_ I can ask him more about Yuuri.” He licks his lips and leans to the side to pull his phone out of his pocket. “You know what? That’s actually a pretty good idea! Let’s call Chris!”

 

He Facetimes Chris and turns the volume up. Chris picks up after several rings. Viktor sits up on the couch and gives a little wave. “Hi Chris!” He takes a proper look and sees one of the sets in the background, and notes that Chris is shirtless and dripping with sweat. “Wow! Or should I say _Ass Man_? Are you busy filming right now? Did I call at a bad time?”

 

_“You called exactly at the right time, actually. We’re taking a twenty-minute break.”_ Chris says, winking at him. _“I’m about to get fluffed. Care to watch? The fluffer’s really cute. Lighting off-set is shit though, so I can't guarantee you'll actually_  see _anything_.”

 

Viktor chuckles. “Ah, no, maybe some other time. There was something I wanted to talk to you about, actually. Or, rather, some _one_.”

 

He can see Chris sitting down on one of the chairs, making himself comfortable. _“My, my, has someone finally caught the eye of the ever-elusive Vitya? Well, spill. Who is it?”_

 

Viktor stands up, beginning to pace. Makkachin follows close behind, probably hoping he'll bring out the beef jerky treats. “Okay, so remember when I told you about my pole-dancing classes—”

 

_“Ooh, who’s that?”_ Another voice pipes up and the screen temporarily turns dark before it eventually shows both Chris and Mila.

 

Mila Babicheva’s one of the newer actresses, and the latest one Yakov personally manages. Her solo work so far has gained her a large online following, from posting on her NSFW Tumblr before, to working professionally now. She usually tests different toys out during livecam shows, and the viewers get to watch up-close so they can see every vibration, every contraction— the works! She’s pretty adventurous, often venturing to the kinky bondage side of things, and Viktor’s had the privilege of working with her already as well. There was even a mini-series where Viktor was her Master and they had a lot of different toys and restraints to play with.

 

“Hi Mila!” Viktor greets, waving at her. “Are you filming with Chris? That’s a first!”

 

Mila leans over Chris’ shoulder, cleavage barely seen over her silky robe. _“Hey Viktor! Yeah, actually. Too bad you aren’t here to join us. I’m getting Eiffel Towered by Chris and this guy named Emil in the next scene. What were you guys talking about?”_

 

_“See,”_ Christophe starts, _“Viktor was about to tell me_ all about _his newest crush. It— It_ is _a crush, right, Viktor? And not some random person you decided to talk to me about?”_

 

“Yep!” Viktor chirps enthusiastically, wandering to the kitchen to randomly open the fridge before closing it again.

 

_“Oh my God!”_ Mila gushes, her stiletto manicured nails reaching over to stroke the phone’s screen with an audible _clack_. _“I am so proud of you, sweetie. Really, it’s about time you found someone you like.”_

 

In the background, Viktor can hear one of the directors calling Mila’s name, so she bids them a quick goodbye and rushes off.

 

_“She’s right, you know,”_ Christophe concurs the moment she’s out of earshot, casting a speculative glance at the camera. He leans back a bit more and a soft moan leaves his lips. The fluffer’s probably working on him right now. _“So. Who is it?”_

 

Viktor licks his lips, feeling a twinge of arousal in the pit of his stomach. “Well I told you about the classes I’m taking, right?”

 

_“Yeah, you did,”_ Chris says, voice breathy and his eyes half-lidded. He rakes his front teeth over his bottom lip. _“Pole-dancing. Do they go there or something?”_

 

Viktor turns away, expression turning sheepish. “Um. Yeah, I guess?” Right. Here we go. “He _teaches_ the classes.”

 

At first, Chris makes nothing of the statement, waiting for Viktor to go on, before realisation hits him and his eyes slowly widen incredulously. _“No. No way! You have a crush on Eros?”_

 

“Yes way,” Viktor insists, a flush of red colouring his cheeks. “You didn’t tell me he’d be _drop-dead gorgeous_! I was totally unprepared!”

 

_“I told you about his ass,”_ Chris reasons, but that’s not enough!

 

“Yeah, and you were _right_ about that,” Viktor continues, “But Yuuri the _person_ , that’s what you should’ve given me the heads up about!”

 

_“Hold on, how do you know his real name?”_ Chris is quick to interject, sitting up straighter. He groans this time, a little louder. _“And ‘unprepared’_ how _? Did you fuck him already?”_

 

“ _What_?! No, no, of course not!” Viktor says posthaste, voice oddly high-pitched. He stops dead in his tracks, covering his face in embarrassment as he honest-to-God flushed fifty different shades of red. “I just—! I was taking Yuri to his ballet class and that’s when I saw Yuuri there! So of course, I asked Yuri about him, and then I went over and said hi, and that’s how I got his name.”

 

_“Oh my God,”_ Chris gasps, awestruck. _“You’re actually_ blushing _! Vitya, world-renowned pornstar, blushing because of the hot dance instructor he met in his pole class! Wow, it’s like you never stopped making porn. All of it’s just off-camera now.”_

 

“Chris,” Viktor says warningly, bristling at the very notion of his… well, whatever he _felt_ for Yuuri being reduced to a plot line for some shoddy porn video. Which made him feel hypocritical at the same time, because this _is_ what Viktor does for a living, making films like these. And there was nothing to be ashamed for about that. But he really _likes_ Yuuri, _genuinely_. Off-camera.

 

Upon hearing the tone of Viktor’s voice, Chris pauses and leans back to study him more carefully. _“You’re… You’re not kidding. Not gonna lie. That’s new.”_

 

Viktor nods, internally grateful Chris immediately caught on and dropped the subject. “Right? So what should I do? You know him. He’s my dance instructor, he’s supposed to _teach_ me, how am I supposed to ask him out? Am I even _allowed_ to ask him out?”

 

Chris ponders over this for a moment, occasionally jerking up (must be the fluffer’s doing) before he answers, _“Honestly? I don’t see anything wrong with it, just as long as it doesn’t interfere with the actual lessons. Or else, you’ll_ never _get anything done. It’ll be up to Yuuri, I guess. You can_ try _, there’s nothing wrong with that! But as long as I’ve known him, though, I have_ **never** _, like, literally_ **never** _seen him go out with someone else on a date.”_

 

Upon seeing the look on Viktor’s face, Chris felt compelled to continue, _“Look, I get why you’d be interested in him. You weren’t the only one who was charmed by him in class— a few of us asked him out one by one just to see if we’d click, but he turned us all down. Not directly, of course. Yuuri’s too nice for that type of thing. So he did the next best thing to cushion the blow. He’d make excuses why he couldn’t go out that night or something. It usually involved having to pet-sit his roommate’s hamsters. Watch out for the hamsters.”_

 

Viktor visibly deflated. “Oh.”

 

_“But hey! Don’t give up so easily! If there’s anyone who could sweep him off his feet, it’d be you. You_ are _the great Vitya, after all. The sex god of our time.”_ Chris winks at him. _“Seducing him should be a piece of cake! Who knows, you might just turn out to be his favourite flavour.”_

 

“Right,” Viktor says slowly, mostly to himself. “I can do this. I can _do this_! Wait, when should I ask him? Before or after my lessons with him?”

 

Chris hums, stroking his chin in thought. _“Hmm, when are your lessons with him?”_

 

“They start this Friday. It’s the only free time he has since he’s busy all the time. He has another job too, I think—”

 

_“Did you just say he has_ another job _?”_

 

Viktor blinks, nonplussed. “Um. Yeah?”

 

_“I_ think _I just might know where he’s working tonight,”_ Chris says, a gleam in his eye. _“Hold on, let me just text someone.”_

 

Christophe pulls the phone closer to his face to open up his Messages app, and for several moments, Viktor gets a stunning, _prolonged_ view of Chris’ nostrils. Yes, he’s being sarcastic.

 

“Wow,” Viktor drawls, a slow grin making its way on his face. He finally stops pacing and goes back to sit on the couch. “That’s a mighty fine nose you’ve got there.”

 

Chris pauses what he’s doing to give him a weird look before he briefly touches the tip of his nose. _“Thanks, my parents made it for me in Switzerland. Organically homegrown.”_ Chris’ phone _dings_ with a new notification and he instantly reads it out loud for Viktor to hear. _“‘Hey Chris! I’ve been doing great! You? And to answer your question, yes, Yuuri is still working here at Kachu’s. He working tonight actually! Drop by soon so we can catch up!’”_

 

“Kachu’s?” Viktor echoes, “I’ve never heard of that place before.”

 

_“Oh, I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s been around for a few years, but it’s sort of those rare finds you discover when you’re wandering around the city. I have a few friends that work there, Yuuri included, so I still drop by from time-to-time.”_

 

“Oh, okay.”

 

As Chris pulls away momentarily to whisper something to his fluffer, Viktor exits the Facetime app and opens up a web browser where he looks ‘Kachu’s’ up on Google. Immediately, he sees the location pinpointed on Google Maps, followed by its opening hours, ratings, andpictures.  Kachu’s Cabaret is a burlesque club not quite _downtown_ , but close. It’s not by a main road too, so Viktor understood where Chris was coming from completely. The ratings were outstanding, though. Five out of five stars. He briefly wonders if Yuuri performs there, or if he did something else, like work as a bartender or a waiter.

 

_“So anyways,”_ Chris continues, and Viktor presses the green bar on top to return to the Facetime call. _“I think you should go to Kachu’s tonight. Watch him perform, then after, try asking him out.”_

 

Viktor _likes_ that idea. But first— “Are you coming with me? You should come with me. Do you _know_ how weird it’d be if I suddenly turned up where he works at his second job? What if he thinks I’m a creepy stalker or something? Chris, _Chris_ , I haven’t even started my lessons with him yet!”

 

Chris raucously laughs at the mere thought of it, bringing a hand to his face. Now he knew Viktor _really_ didn’t know Yuuri all that well. _“Honestly, Yuuri’s too nice to think that of anyone.”_

 

Something in Viktor’s expression just _melts_.

 

_“Don’t worry too much about it! Though I have to say, it’s not like you to stress so much over someone you just met. You must really like him, huh?”_

 

“I _do_ , I really do,” Viktor says, bringing his arm around Makkachin, who had been dozing on his lap ever since Viktor’s made his return to the couch. Yuuri’s gonna be Makkachin’s future daddy after all!

 

He hears the director saying something on Chris’ end, and the latter turns to him with an almost regretful expression. _“As much as I’d love to continue talking, I have to get back to work.”_

 

Viktor smiles in understanding. “Of course. Don’t let me keep you! Tell Mila ‘good luck’ for me! Have fun!”

 

Chris waggles his brows, a leer on his face. _“Oh, I will.”_

 

He promptly ends the call and Viktor couldn’t help but smile, accessing Kachu’s site on his phone so he could hopefully book one of their VIP tables. Chris may have the shittiest superhero name ever known to man, but Viktor had to admit: Chris gave some Damn Good Advice™! He couldn't _wait_ to see Yuuri tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello! sorry if this chapter doesn't have much going on-- it was actually supposed to include Viktor actually going to Kachu's lol but then it'd be too long and make the chapter lengths kinda disproportionate which is like a weird pet peeve of mine unless it gets longer and longer, so I'll be making it a separate chapter altogether!
> 
> PROMISE PROMISE PROMISE I'LL DO MY BEST TO MAKE THE NEXT CHAPTER WORTH IT (give it to me i'm worth it) AND!!! I FOUND THE PERFECT SONG FOR YUURI'S FIRST PERFORMANCE AAAAAA
> 
> pls leave a comment or kudos bc they motivate me and they lit make me so happy aahhh thank u guys so much for the love~ <3


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor finally gets to see Yuuri perform as Eros.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! pls listen to Eros' music when u see the link, it'll make it 1000x much better ❤️

Chris’ Damn Good Advice™ turned out to be the pick-me-up Viktor needed, and it’s _exactly_ why Viktor found himself standing in front of Kachu’s Cabaret later that evening. It was a stately building, three stories tall and made out of limestone. He had read somewhere on Kachu’s _About Us_ page that the building had once been a playhouse that had succumbed to the hardships of modernisation. The owner of Kachu’s Cabaret, world-renowned dancer Minako Okukawa, had decided to save the building from demolition and renovated it entirely, where it had become the home of her cabaret show. Which is pretty inspiring, to be honest.

 

Viktor left his car keys with the valet and entered the establishment, dim yellow lights giving the room a warm glow. He himself was decked out in a smart suit, easy on the eyes. The aesthetic he was going for went along the lines of ‘I-don’t-want-to-seem-like-I’m-trying-too-hard-even-though-I-am’. But Viktor pulled it off well, and you’d never be able to tell otherwise. He (embarrassingly) spent a good part of his afternoon deciding what to wear, sifting through his many, _many_ tailored suits— and for someone who spent most of his time buck naked, he had a _lot_ of suits, honestly, like a _fuck_ ton— before he settled on a dark grey suit, a crisp white dress shirt and a slim black tie.

 

The maître d’ quickly glances up at her tablet, greeting him, “Welcome to Kachu’s Cabaret! Name please?”

 

“Viktor Nikiforov,” he replies smoothly, casting a glance at the mahogany double-doors to destiny. _His_ destiny, aka the main dining area where the stage was.

 

As the maître d’ takes a moment to find his reservation, he glances at the wall of fame beside the door and sees it decorated with photos of all sorts of celebrities who have visited the cabaret, some framed newspaper and magazine clippings, and a signed picture of the proprietor with the Queen of Burlesque herself, Dita Von Teese. Judging by the several smaller photos underneath it, she had not only come to perform at the cabaret, but watched the show herself.

 

Now _Dita_ , he recognised instantly. He met her once at a party, several years ago. It was at a Playboy party hosted by none other than Hugh Hefner himself. Viktor doesn’t actually remember _much_ about the party itself, but he knows he wasn’t able to socialise with anyone else that much, since he’d retired to one of the upstairs guest rooms with two Playmates and some guy who turned out to be an A-list bankable star. Obviously, he didn’t reappear downstairs for the rest of the night.

 

And now here he was, in Kachu’s Cabaret, following the dance instructor he’s known for not even a _week_ to where he worked his second job. It wasn’t creepy. Totally not creepy at all. He wasn’t _stalking_ anyone, honest! And as for his intentions— well, maybe they weren’t exactly _pure_ , but they weren’t malicious either. So there’s that.

 

Viktor is ushered to a table in front of the stage, blessed with the perfect view. He managed to snag this table thanks to a bit of ‘influence’ on Chris’ part, who called in shortly after Viktor booked a table. Within moments, a waitress comes by with a welcome drink, which he takes a sip from as he checks his phone for the time. When Viktor had walked in, the room was already abuzz and filled with people, and it wasn’t even a weekend! He could only imagine how much harder it would have been to reserve a table if it were a weekend night. He’d probably have to call in a day or two in advance.

 

Viktor continues to nurse his drink as he scrolls through his Instagram feed to kill some time before the show starts. Just as he finishes posting a quick selfie on both his Instagram and Snapchat stories, the lights in the room suddenly dim and a hush falls over the room. Nonplussed, Viktor sets his phone down and glances around for some sort of clue as to what was going on before a spotlight shines down on the stage, the deep red velvet curtains turning a vibrant crimson.

 

That’s when it hits him. The show is starting.

 

The live band set to the side of the stage on a separate platform played a short jazzy tune as a woman wearing a black dress with a fitted bodice sauntered onstage. The crowd breaks out into cheers and after a passing moment of this distinct familiarity, Viktor recognises her as Minako Okukawa, the proprietor of the establishment.

 

She beams and waves to the crowd, waiting for the applause to subside before speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, and everyone in-between! Good evening! I present you, Kachu’s Cabaret!” With that, she flourishes her hands towards the stage as the velvet curtains slowly start to part, revealing an ensemble of women dressed in glitzy 50’s-esque sailor outfits.

 

They chassé forwards as music begins to play, their languid movements accentuating their voluptuous figures much like predators closing in on their prey. It wasn’t full-out _Animal Planet_ , but he had to admit— as he watched them writhe to the slow, teasing rhythm, he found that it actually reminded him of one of his earlier works! It wasn’t _that_ long ago, though; it was dated only a few years back.

 

_All Hands on Dick!_ was deemed a modern classic, one of Viktor’s most prominent works in the recent years. He even won an award for it, for best harem scene! Yes, yes, he had an award for it and all (it made a very nice paperweight). It was followed by its long-awaited sequel, _Cumpany in the Captain’s Quarters_. There was supposed to be a spin-off called _The Tit-anic_ featuring xXxGeenaLovely69xXx, but unfortunately, she tested positive for the clap before the shoot. There was something about her now-ex-boyfriend not telling her beforehand he had an STD, which is a downright shitty thing to do. Very tragic. Her early retirement was a big hit to the community.

 

Ah, but Viktor digresses! He should— Yes, he should probably focus on the show. Getting back to that now. The performance wouldn’t look out of place in Vegas, he thinks. It catches the eye, and it’s a wonderful way to start off the show, but even though he’s stopped thinking about his past work and retired pornstars, he finds that his attention still isn’t _entirely_ there. Instead, he thinks about Yuuri and his warm brown eyes, and his kind smile, and his flushed cheeks, and the bonus of an Amazing Ass, and _holy shit_ , Viktor must have it really bad right now. He wonders when Yuuri will be performing, and he gets this tight feeling in his chest, and his stomach is all aflutter just thinking about seeing Yuuri so soon.

 

A waitress comes in midway through the performance, serving him his appetiser. It’s a blue cheese, pear, and walnut salad. He takes a bite out of it, and a delighted ‘Vkusno!’ leaves his lips. In Kachu’s, see, they have a three-course meal included in the ticket fee. A damn good deal, in Viktor’s opinion, especially since it _literally_ gave him, like, a valid reason to see Yuuri again. And to see him perform onstage, no less!

 

The following performances were many and varied. There were singers with these amazing, powerhouse voices that raised bumps on Viktor’s skin, funny parodies and skits, and stripteases— all very much neo-burlesque. Viktor manages to stop thinking so much about _when_ he’s going to see Yuuri and finds himself engrossed in the performances by the time he’s finished with the main course.

 

He ensconces himself further in his seat and watches curiously as the velvet curtains are drawn closed after a striptease that left the blond performer wearing nothing but white gloves and a strand of pearls. Waiters and waitresses come out and clear the tables, so that the dessert could be served simultaneously.

 

Minako returns onstage, an excited smile on her face. She raises the mic to her lips and speaks, “Now, for your ‘just desserts’, the last but not the least..!”

 

She pauses as the audience goes wild, their cheering raising the roof. Viktor’s heart stutters in his chest, and he gets this _feeling_ in his gut, and he just _knows_ who the next performer _is_.

 

“Give it up for our one and only Eros!” She exclaims, raising a hand up as she made way. The curtains start to part and loud synths begin to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ohs0a-QnFF4).

 

_‘Greetings, Himeros.’_

 

Viktor clutches his chest when he sees Yuuri holding onto the stage pole in the centre of the stage, his breath catching in his throat. It’s _him_. It’s actually him!!

 

_‘God of sexual desire; son of Aphrodite.’_

 

Yuuri was dressed in a white button down, black form-fitting slacks, a blue necktie, and black platform ankle-high boots. He ran a hand through his slicked-back hair and licked his lips, a heady look in his eyes.

 

He slowly arches his back and languidly rolls his shoulders, as if he had been reawakened from a deep slumber.

 

_‘Lay back, and feast as this audio guides you through new and exciting positions.’_

 

His gaze is sharper now, more alert. Within those few seconds of the instrumentals, he made his way to the front with the rest of the female backup dancers, their hands on their hips and legs spread apart.

 

A woman begins to sing, and Yuuri arches his back, eyes half-mast and lips parted as he raises an arm up to reach for the ceiling, his other hand running itself down his chest as he tugged at his shirt’s collar. He motions to the crowd, and when he catches sight of Viktor, an enigmatic smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he quickly dances to the beat.

 

When the music picks up, the backup dancers swarm him, hands mapping out his body in a heated frenzy and lips coming in contact with any exposed skin. All this, while he has his arms spread out and a cocky smile on his face, in a gesture of Bacchanalian grandeur. They quickly divest him of his clothes, leaving him in only a pair of black pole shorts and his shirt, now half unbuttoned.

 

Just as it reaches the chorus of the song, he saunters back to the pole, an arm outstretched and muscles rippling underneath the flimsy cotton fabric of his shirt, as Yuuri lifts himself off of the ground with a regular two-hand grip, making sure to use his core muscles. He spins twice around the pole, legs far apart as he gains momentum, before spreading his legs upwards into an aerial invert that leaves his legs on either side of the pole in a V-shape. As he continues to spin around the pole, he curls into himself to form a crouch spin, with his legs close to his chest. He clings onto the pole, limbs slowly unfurling as he lowers himself back to the ground.

 

He presses his body flush against the pole, eyes fluttering shut as he slides down the pole, hips moving in serpentine motions. When he opens his eyes once more, he meets Viktor’s gaze, and Viktor sees a flicker of something— _something_ — in his eyes; something he can’t put a name to.

 

Yuuri is beautiful, intoxicating, _breathtaking_. Viktor can’t bring himself to look away, not even sparing a glance at the dessert brought to his table. How could he? When there was some _one_ so much sweeter right in front of him. He met the man’s gaze head-on, icy blue eyes clouded over with such ardent _desire_ , Viktor himself felt overwhelmed with how strong it was.

 

Yuuri took his shirt off and tossed it down without care, a high-heeled boot kicking it further away from himself. He reached up and gripped the pole, climbing it up with ease and spinning around it before he kicked his feet behind him for that extra boost and lifted his leg up around the pole, while the other was stretched out straight in front of him, an arm splayed out as the other one gripped onto the pole, as it formed one of his favourite positions: the scorpio.

 

A soft groan left Viktor’s lips. He could feel his arousal beginning to strain against the fabric of his trousers, but he wasn’t fully erect. All this, from merely watching Yuuri— _Eros_ — perform. During the bridge, Yuuri returns to the front of the stage to dance with the rest of the backup dancers, the thundering sound of their heels coming in contact with the ground rhythmic, on-beat, and making the entire performance all the more _powerful_.

 

_‘Touch me, touch me.’_

 

During the middle of the dance, Yuuri's kept his gaze locked with Viktor’s the entire time and sauntered forwards, making his way down the stage. There was this tantalising sway in his hips, the way he’d chassé forward, one foot in front of the other as if walking along a tightrope.

 

_‘Touch me, touch me.’_

 

As Yuuri closes in on Viktor, and Viktor only, the latter is more than willing to let the dancer’s presence consume him whole. His breath catches in his throat as Yuuri pulls his chair out from the table, hands on either side of his legs—

 

_‘Get on top of me.’_

 

—and he _straddles_ Viktor’s lap, a teasing smile on his face.

 

He throws his hands over Viktor’s shoulders and arches his back until their chests are pressed together, and Yuuri— _fuck, Yuuri_ — grinds his hips in filthy little circles into his groin. Viktor bites his bottom lip and barely restrains himself from bucking his hips in response to Yuuri’s ministrations.

 

“Touch me, touch me, don’t be shy. I’m in charge like a G.U.Y.,” Yuuri says along to the lyrics, voice breathy as he leans in closer until Viktor can feel their breaths mingling together. Viktor snaps and his hands reach up to grasp at Yuuri’s hips tightly, a coy smirk on his face. Yuuri’s breath hitches as his smouldering brown eyes quickly glance up to meet Viktor’s icy blue ones.

 

_‘I’ll lay down face up this time, under you like a G.U.Y.’_

 

Yuuri looks absolutely _divine_ , with his cheeks flushed, and lips parted, and his pupils blown wide like this. Just as Viktor leans in to close the gap between them, Yuuri pulls away and returns to the stage, where he continues his pole routine. As the song comes to a close, he climbs up the pole before doing another aerial invert, legs clinging to the pole as he twists his body around 180° to the other side, a hand holding on to the pole and another arm stretched out as he folds his left leg and sticks his right leg out. All this, to perform his signature move, ‘Eros’.

 

He holds his pose for several seconds as the room bursts into loud applause when the performance is done. Viktor is clapping and cheering loudly too, honest-to-God Shook™. The whole room gives Yuuri a standing ovation as he gently manoeuvres back down the pole and gives a bow. Viktor would have loved to see him longer, but as soon as Yuuri had thanked the audience, he had rushed offstage behind the velvet curtains.

 

Viktor leaned back in his chair, feeling like he’d run a marathon. He’d— He’d have to wait a bit to calm himself down first, and finally took the time to glance down at his dessert: a molten lava cake. _Same,_ Viktor thought to himself, _same._

 

* * *

 

Viktor exited Kachu’s Cabaret feeling like he was in a daze of sorts. Maybe, perhaps, he was even starstruck. Yet still, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment since he technically hadn’t gotten to talk to Yuuri tonight yet.

 

The cold night air was refreshing for once, save for the faint smell of cigarette smoke coming from the other smokers outside the cabaret. He stood in line behind the other patrons waiting for the valet to bring their car over, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his trousers. Thankfully, Viktor had managed to will his impending boner away while he polished off his dessert. Not thankfully, he had to think of some pretty weird stuff to do it. Like Georgi weeping over his ex while wearing an Elsa costume (jkndkjanjkaskjd), or Yakov in a gold spandex mankini ( _end me now_ ™).

 

Viktor couldn’t help but wonder aloud to himself, “Why am I like this?” Because really, he couldn’t understand _why_.

 

“Why are you like what?” A familiar voice speaks up, and Viktor’s heart skips a beat. He whips around to face the person speaking, his lips curled up into an ebullient heart-shaped smile.

 

“Yuuri! Hi!!” Viktor exclaims, and if he were Makkachin, he’s sure his tail would be wagging back and forth right now. It’d be wagging so hard, his butt would wiggle from side-to-side the way Makkachin’s did whenever he brought out the beef jerky treats. _That’s_ how happy he is right now.

  
Yuuri’s fully dressed now, in many, _many_ layers. Viktor’s face grows hot again just thinking about what had transpired not even half an hour ago, and judging by the redness of Yuuri’s face, he’s probably thinking something along those same lines too.

 

Yuuri smiles up at him sheepishly, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat. “Hi, Viktor.”

 

Viktor dares to take a step closer, a charming smile on his face. “You were _amazing_ back there, Yuuri,” he praises, before his voice drops down to a purr, “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

 

He watches as the blush on Yuuri’s face intensifies, the latter quickly averting his gaze as he kicked up at the nonexistent dust beneath his feet. “So, um, how did you discover Kachu’s?”

 

It’s Viktor’s turn to flush red this time. “Oh. Well.” Flashbacks of his call with Chris earlier comes to mind, and he’s internally _panicking_. Shit. _Shit._ He’s gonna come across as some weird stalker or something! _Fuuuuck_. Then Yuuri will be creeped out and tell Viktor to leave him the hell alone unless he wants to be slapped with a restraining order, just like the way Josh from _Drake & Josh _got a restraining Oprah after accidentally hitting her with his car. No. _No_. When in doubt, _lie_. “I got… lost? And I decided to, ah, check this place out! No regrets.”

 

Yuuri holds a hand to his mouth, suppressing the urge to snort. There’s a cheeky twinkle in his eye. “But the tickets to Kachu’s are by booking only.”

 

“Right! Yes!” Viktor says posthaste, gesticulating vaguely. Did he or did he not just lie himself into a hole? It seems more like a grave than anything. When in doubt, _don’t lie_. He throws his hands up in a show of defeat. “Okay, fine. Chris told me about it.”

 

The smile on Yuuri’s face widens. “I know. Chris texted me earlier.”

 

Viktor gasps, hands dropping to his sides. _No._ “He did _what_ —”

 

“Yuuri,” a voice behind them calls out, the mystery man draping his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. Viktor suddenly gets this unpleasant, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Okay, so of _course_ it was totally plausible someone as _amazing_ as Yuuri probably already had someone. Viktor should have thought about that, yes. “let’s order take out before we go home! I get that, like, the food in Kachu’s is good and all that, but—” He pauses mid-sentence, looking at Viktor. “My, my, who is _this_?”

 

“Oh,” Yuuri goes, motioning to Viktor. “Phichit, meet Viktor. Viktor, this is Phichit, my roommate.”

 

“ _And_ his best friend,” Phichit adds, and Viktor can’t help but feel an overwhelming flood of relief for some reason. This must be the roommate with the hamsters Chris was talking about. Phichit squints at him, his gaze calculating. “So _you’re_ the Viktor Yuuri’s been mentioning lately, huh?”

 

“The one and only, I presume,” Viktor says, feeling a tad sheepish.

 

“Huh, consider yourself lucky! We had to move shawarma nights to Thursday because of you!” He winks suggestively. “And Yuuri normally _never_ gives private lessons—”

 

“P-Phichit!”

 

“— so you _must_ be special!”

 

Viktor raises an eyebrow at this, glancing at Yuuri. “Ah, really? I’ll do my best then!”

 

“ _Wait_ ,” Phichit says, pulling his phone out. “I’m livetweeting this. This is too good to not livetweet.”

 

“No, no, _nonono_ , you’re not livetweeting _anything_!” Yuuri interjects, waving his hands in front of Phichit’s face.

 

“Welcome to the Hoe Life™, Yuuri! You’re one of us now,” Phichit chirps, feigning obliviousness to the dance instructor’s turmoil. He glances up at Viktor, tilting his head to the side. “Say, you _do_ look familiar though. Where have I seen you before?”

 

Viktor suddenly grows still, honestly not sure what to make of it. Is he— is he really going to expose him as Vitya? Not that there’d be anything more for Phichit to _expose_ , per se, since Viktor probably already did that himself. Literally.

 

“Oh, wait! You go to Stacks, right? I think I must have seen you there or something!”

 

Phichit doesn’t notice the other two’s collective sighs of relief.

 

Viktor nods, “Yes, yes, I go there from time to time.”

 

Stacks is this wine bar uptown. They have great selections of wine, and equally great food to go along with it. Sometimes Viktor would go for a creamy seafood risotto with a crisp white wine, or a full-bodied red wine to wash down one of their tender steaks. Viktor went there fairly often, so it was possible Phichit might have seen him there at some point.

 

Yuuri hurriedly turns to face Viktor, an embarrassed smile on his face. “Ah, sorry, but we really have to get going now!”

 

Viktor jerks a thumb back into the direction of the valet. “I have a car. I can drop you off..?”

 

“No, no, it’s fine!” Yuuri interjects, clutching onto Phichit’s arm. “I’ll see you for our private lesson on Friday, Viktor!”

 

With that, Yuuri starts to pull Phichit back, the latter still busy livetweeting the entire ordeal.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Viktor calls out, raising a hand up.

 

Yuuri turns to face him, a smile on his face. “Have a good night, Viktor! I’ll see you on Friday!”

 

Viktor slowly lowers his hand, watching the two bicker as they made their way down the street. He himself isn’t aware of it, but his eyes are _shining_ , and he feels like there’s something inside him that’s been newly awakened.

 

* * *

 

> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> OMG GUESS WHO FINALLY JOINED THE HOE LIFE W/ ME!! [eyes emoji][eggplant emoji] congratz to my one and only bestie @katsukidon!! [party popper emoji] love u [kissing face emoji]
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> STORYTIME: so i was supporting my homeboy @katsukidon for his show tonight right? the performances are great and everything is LIT [fire emoji] 1/?
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> then @katsukidon comes out like 2/?
> 
> [[GIF](http://columbuzz614.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/tumblr_mdnfgjozkn1qma0wn.gif) of woman sauntering]
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> shit’s on fiiiireeee son [3 fire emojis] but then i noticed something different about yuuri tonight, like he LITERALLY did not look anywhere else?? 3/?
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> Y’ALL KNOW ME RIGHT? imma get on that like sherlock holmes 4/?
> 
> [[GIF](http://s12.favim.com/orig/160403/benedict-cumberbatch-sherlock-holmes-bbc-sherlock-holmes-sherlock-bbc-Favim.com-4158637.gif) of Benedict Cumberbatch thinking]
> 
>  
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> so u kno what i do? i slowly stand up all stealthy like, trynna see who my homeboy is making these LEGIT bedroom eyes™ at, like dAMN- 5/?
> 
> [[GIF](http://gifsec.com/wp-content/uploads/GIF/2015/03/Sneaking-to-go-to-the-bathroom-at-night.gif) of Spiderman lurking]
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> as it turns out, literally ALL his attention is focused on the guy sitting at the table up front!! I AM SHOOKT [shocked emoji] 6/?
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>  
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> NGL, MYSTERY TABLE GUY LOOKED JUST AS BAD HAHAHA like the both of them literally have bedroom eyes 7/?
> 
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> 
> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> mystery table guy is hella hot too so i get why Yuuri would, like, seduce him?? they were literally having eye sex the ENTIRE TIME 8/?
> 
> [[GIF](https://senselesscrutiny.files.wordpress.com/2015/05/fanning-myself.gif) of person fanning themselves]
> 
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> bitch i felt like i was intruding on something— AND THERE WAS DEFFO SMTH GOING ON THERE, like i could literally feel sparks flying?? 9/?
> 
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> AND THEN I SEE YUURI MAKING HIS WAY DOWN OVER TO MYSTERY TABLE GUY AND I AM LITERALLY INTERNALLY SCREAMING!!!! 10/?
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> THEN HE STRAIGHT UP GETS ON THIS GUY’S LAP AND STARTS GRINDING UP AGAINST HIM??? YUURI THAT’S SO DIRTY!!?? U WILD 11/?
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> and ofc the crowd is lovin it. the crowd is loving EVERY SECOND OF IT, AND BITCH I AM TOO!!! just as mystery table guy leans in closer 12/?
> 
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> 
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> YUURI PULLS AWAY AND GOES BACK TO THE STAGE. I AM STUNNED. SPEECHLESS. LITERALLY WHAT JSUT HAPPENED? YOU TEASE. SO PROUD OF U 13/?
> 
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> HAS MY HOEING FINALLY RUBBED OFF ON U?? IF IT DID, THEN I’VE TAUGHT U WELL. BUT FOR THE DANCING, WELL, U DID THAT ONE ON UR OWN 14/?
> 
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> ANYWAYS, so the show is done, and I AM STILL SCREAMING. like i AM FREAKING OUT. bc Yuuri doesn’t do stuff like this PERIOD. 15/?
> 
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> sure, he can pole w/ the best of them but this?? this is different. So Yuuri goes ahead while I stay back to take a leak 16/?
> 
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> and when I meet him outside, I see him talking to mystery table guy!!! HOLY SHIT. IT’S LIKE ALL OF MY DREAMS ARE COMING TRUE. I SHIP IT 17/?
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> plot twist: as it turns out, THEY ACTUALLY ALREADY KNOW EACH OTHER. And he mentioned the guy to me before but I didn’t know what he 18/?
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> looked like unTIL NOW- y’all, this is the guy who Yuuri moved our Friday shawarma nights for. n i’m lookin at him close up n I SEE WHY 19/?
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> and the way they look at each other!! it’s not ‘bedroom eyez’ anymore, it’s like me the way i look at my hamsters [eyes emoji] 20/?
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> get u one of those [crying laughing face emoji][OK emoji][ 100 emoji] and I got these vibes that table guy (no longer a mystery) wanted to make a move on my homeboy 21/?
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> like the supportive hoe i am, ya boy was about to skip off so they could have some of dat one-on-one facetime, ya dig? 22/?
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> but then Yuuri straight up says goodnight to the guy and LITERALLY DRAGS ME OFF and AWAY from the guy 23/?
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> ‘why’d u do that?’ i asked him, and he was like ‘shh don’t talk’ so we walk for a while as i think to myself… holy shit this is REAL 24/?
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> so basically they’re gonna have a fabulous gay wedding in honolulu planned by yours truly and Y’ALL ARE INVITED 25/25
> 
> [[GIF](http://i.imgur.com/JNhU5Tt.gif) of Oprah giving stuff away] 
> 
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> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> To keep track of my latest vlogs, subscribe to my Youtube channel! Link is in my bio [winking emoji] I upload videos every day! Love u all! ❤️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song:  
> G.U.Y. - Lady Gaga
> 
> hey everyone!! might i just say, this chapter kicked me in the ass bc i lowkey kinda had to choreograph the routine-ish??? that’s why i included the names of the moves, just in case y’all wanted to check it out
> 
> also i had my midterms up until saturday, so that kicked me in the ass too fml
> 
> perks tho!! i got to go to a YOI pre-party event last friday!! this fandom gives me LIFEEE
> 
> also thanks so much for your kudos, comments, and generally just taking the time to read this fic!! really makes my day and I listen to all your comments and suggestions!! reading them makes me so happy!!
> 
> :D MUCHAS SMOOCHAS to [MoonSmurf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonSmurf) for helping me w/ the pole dancing aspects!!
> 
> SHOUTOUT TO [Noon30ish](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Noon30ish/pseuds/Noon30ish)'s new story inspired by this fic, called [For The Camera](http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/22653293)!!


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being seduced by Eros, Viktor proceeds to vent his frustrations out on camera. Sexually. Did I mention he's on camera?

Once the valet brings Viktor’s car over— a sleek black sedan— he hastily clambers in after tipping the man generously. Viktor grips the steering wheel tightly, icy blue eyes of his widening. Everything that’s just transpired tonight is only just starting to sink in.

 

“Wow,” he says to himself softly, voice laced with wonder. “ _Wow_.”

 

It’s only when the car behind him honks impatiently when Viktor springs into action, pulling out onto the main road. He fumbles to get his seatbelt clipped on, searching for something to listen to on the radio. As he drives down the road, he can’t help but sneak quick glances to the side, hoping that by some chance, he’d see Yuuri and Phichit walking down the sidewalk. A block or two later, he decides to cut his losses and opts to focus on driving instead. Though again, admittedly, his attention isn’t entirely there.

 

Yuuri is very good at capturing his attention, he thinks. And he is also just as good at keeping it, whether or not he was aware of it. With Viktor’s tendency to be a bit of an air-head, he thinks of it quite the feat.

 

* * *

 

“Hi Makkachin!” Viktor greets, shuffling into his apartment. The fluffy brown poodle stands up on his hind legs, scratching at Viktor’s trousers with his front paws. Viktor leans down to scratch Makkachin’s nape.

 

“Are you hungry?” He asks, the enthusiasm in his voice making Makkachin excited too. “Do you want some _nom noms_ , Makkachin? Let’s get you some noms!”

 

Together, they bound over to the kitchen, with Makkachin’s paws hot on his master’s heels. Makkachin patiently sits and waits as Viktor rifles through the cupboards for Makkachin’s favourite dog food. He reaches for Makkachin’s blue ceramic food bowl and pours a generous amount of dry kibble in before setting it down on the floor. He takes a second to check the poodle’s water bowl and makes sure there’s enough clean water for him to drink.

 

Viktor returns the box of dog food back to its proper place and pulls a wine glass out, pouring himself some Bordeaux.

 

“Papa has to work tonight,” he says, before taking a sip. And by ‘papa’, he’s referring to himself, of course, but he’d like to think that Yuuri wouldn’t mind being Makkachin’s daddy. Double the love! “So I might have to walk you a little later than usual, alright?”  
  
Makkachin’s ears perk up upon hearing his human’s voice, but other than that, he barely acknowledges him, nose-deep into his food dish.

 

“I saw him again tonight,” Viktor starts, the beginnings of a smile on his face. He thinks of Yuuri and his dark eyes, and the enigmatic smirk he wore like a secret on his lips. The way he moved across the stage, hips swaying to the beat of the music, and how weightless he looked on that pole— like gravity had no hold on him. He made it seem so effortless and easy, though with any form of art, Viktor knew the dance instructor had poured hours upon hours into perfecting his dancing. And it paid off! It _definitely_ paid off.

 

Viktor couldn’t get enough of it. He wanted _more_. He didn’t just want it, no, he _craved_ it.

 

He gulps, eyes glazing over with lust. Just thinking about it— like, _the mere thought of it_ , made his body feel hot. Quickly, he downs the rest of his wine. It didn’t leave him buzzed or tipsy, but it was enough to lift his spirits. He sets the glass down on the counter and removes his jacket, placing it down on the glass dining table. He works at undoing his necktie as he makes his way to his studio.

 

Viktor’s studio was originally a guest bedroom, but since he never had any guests over, he turned it into something that was more or less a playroom, only with a fuckton more professional cameras and lights. It was like an extension of Yakov’s studio, only he really, _truly_ had this room all to himself.

 

See, other than filming erotic content with Yakov’s studio, Viktor would often have live cam shows for his viewers. And being a professional— the Living Legend of modern-day porn, no less— there were _higher_ expectations for his content. He had professional lighting for one. He bought it as a set from eBay, and he’d usually spend a few minutes setting up so he could get the lighting just right.

 

And for filming, he had a proper video camera good enough to shoot 4K videos. No shitty webcams for him. The first time he’d done a live cam show, he had done it on his iMac’s camera. It was _good_ , but it wasn’t good enough. Viktor went out to buy a professional video camera the next day.

 

Whatever was filming on the camera, he’d plug into his MacBook so it could directly feed the content to the site. He used his MacBook for this, so he could read and answer questions at the same time, and so he could keep an eye on the video stream quality.

 

The bedroom itself was relatively plain— white walls, white sheets, standard off-white curtains. Nothing to distinguish the fact it was in Viktor’s home, and to be frank, he preferred to keep it that way. He may be comfortable enough with his body to show it to other people unabashedly, but he didn’t feel comfortable with the notion of filming it in his bedroom— like, was nothing _sacred_ anymore? If anything, he didn’t want to risk the possibility of getting doxxed or stalked just because someone recognised the drapes from outside his window, or the made-to-order poodle lamp on his bedside table, which he specially had made from a seller on Etsy.

 

The room had a walk-in too, though considerably much smaller compared to the one in Viktor’s bedroom. He kept his filming equipment here, as well as his _Equipment_ ™. He had his own personal collection of different toys and all sorts of bondage paraphernalia. When he first got this apartment, he even had a few hooks installed into the ceiling if ever he wanted to try suspension. But, like he said, he never really had any guests. As he grew older, the thought of having hooks in his skin daunted even _him_.

 

He tosses his tie over the swivel chair in front of his desk with the iMac, then starts preparing the area for filming. Soon, there’d be wires and lights everywhere. He sets the box light in front, then two umbrella lights on either side to make sure the light is evenly distributed and won’t make any ugly ( _ugly_? Hah! As fucking _if_ —) or unflattering shadows. He plugs them all into an extension cord and plugs _that_ cord into the wall. Then he reaches for his Macbook and sets it on his bed, opening it up and accessing his Twitter account ( _very_ NSFW).

 

 

> **Vitya @v-nikiforov** ✔︎
> 
> Hi everyone! Will be going live in thirty minutes or so. ;) See you at bit.ly/vnk-v ❤️

 

He opens up another tab on Google Chrome and logs into his **NetFlixxx** account as an official performer. He changes his status from offline to online and clicks on the page where he would start a live show. He toggles the window full-screen and he can see himself peering into the laptop camera. Viktor sighs and sets up the camera, as well as the tripod, right at the foot of the bed. He accesses his laptop’s settings and connects his camera to it. Soon enough, the quality of the camera is much more clearer— he can see that on the laptop now. He leans back into the middle of the bed, testing the way the camera would adjust and readjust to his movements, the way the exposure would change whenever he moved too much.

 

Fuck. Right.

 

Viktor reaches for a grey card with an encircled cross-hair on it. He places it in front of the camera and waits for the camera to adjust, then takes a picture of it. He proceeds to use that picture as a reference to adjust the white balance manually, so whenever he moves in front of the camera, it won’t suddenly go all dark or light. He tests it a few times, just to be sure. He switches back to his Twitter account and checks how many minutes he has left before he goes live.

 

He slides off the bed, careful not to jostle any of the lighting or trip over any of the wires, and begins to rifle through his walk-in closet for some toys to use. There were a few new ones he bought online a few weeks back he hadn’t been able to try yet, so he decided to try the Lelo Hugo prostate massager and a TENGA Lovers Heart Egg. He paused for a moment before grabbing a silicone cock ring as well.

 

He makes his way back to the bed and sets the toys out of the camera’s view, just on the other corner of the foot of the bed. He checks the time once more. Just a few more minutes. He makes sure his lube is easily accessible on the bedside table, then starts stripping down to his black boxer briefs. He makes sure the door is closed— wouldn’t want Makkachin bursting into _this_ — then returns to the bed.

 

 

> **Vitya @v-nikiforov** ✔︎
> 
> About to start this live show! Watch me at bit.ly/vnk-v

 

He changes the tab and drags it out to make it a separate window. With a click of a button, he’s now **LIVE ◉** on **NetFlixxx**. Within seconds, the viewer count grows from a few hundred to a thousand or so. Viktor waves his hand at the camera.

 

“Hello! Vitya here! How are you all doing?”

 

He’s sitting on the bed cross-legged, and with the camera, you can see every hard line of the muscles on his stomach as he leans forward. There’s a white chat box to the left, where you can see comments from the viewers showing up in real time. Viktor smiles, a few of their usernames vaguely recognisable to him if he’s seen them often enough.

 

A user, **cumslutfordaddy** , asks him how he’s doing. Y’know, just to kind of break the ice and get things going. Formalities. Well, as formal as they could get.

 

“Oh, I’m doing great!” Viktor answers automatically, grinning as he thought of Yuuri. “Let me just tell you guys, I had _so_ much fun tonight. If you guys saw my story on Snapchat and Instagram, you’ll see I went to a cabaret for the _first time_. So fun. There were lots of different performances, and let me tell you, they were full-out _performing_ , singing and dancing. It was amazing. So yeah, that was my night.”

 

He glances at the laptop screen, scanning quickly for any questions. “Oh, my Instagram and Snapchat? It’s v-nikiforov, just like my username here and on Twitter. Vee-dash-Nikiforov.”

 

He sees a familiar user show up on the chat box and he makes sure to greet them. To be honest, he didn’t have live cam sessions very often, but now that he had some downtime, he’d be camming more often to make up for the videos he’d be missing out on. He didn’t mind camming though, and he wasn’t sure why he didn’t do it more.

 

The thing about cam sessions is that sometimes they could go for hours and hours. But it wasn’t very tiring for him— It was actually pretty nice to just talk and hang out, drink together and listen to good music. Stuff like that. He and his viewers, especially the regular ones, they were close. It was a good community. Whenever some fuckface showed up and made lewd comments on the live chat box, they’d stick up for him. And with the click of a button, that user could be blocked from the livestream entirely. Yakov made sure of that.

 

Right below the livestream video and the live chat box, there’s a green **TIP** button, where users could tip him or send him money through the site. For a one-hour session, and he made a _lot_ for a man, he probably makes roughly $500 per hour? More or less, since Vitya has a large following. Maybe he should cam more.

 

(Though honestly, he has more money than he knows what to do with.)

 

He takes a glance at the viewer count and sees it’s finally hit tens of thousands. The chat box is alive and well, and though Viktor answers their questions and talks to them, he wants someone to _gush_ to about Yuuri ( _ **Not**_ Chris, he's still angry Chris literally ratted him out to Yuuri). Viktor’s never had a partner he wanted to talk about at length like this, and Yuuri wasn’t even his partner (yet)!

 

He’s distracted, and his mind isn’t entirely there, and it shows. A few of them call him out on it, either curious or concerned. So he decides to shed a little light on it! Just a little. He wouldn’t want to compromise Yuuri’s identity, so he won’t mention him by name, or even mention Kachu’s. He wouldn’t want to tip anyone off where he’s living, either.

 

He leans forward, elbow propped up and a hand underneath his chin. “I met someone,” he says excitedly, and immediately, messages of encouragement stream in and inundate the chat box.

 

 

> **tfwsuccdicc**
> 
> **That’s wonderful!! Who is he?**
> 
>  
> 
> **geenalovely4evrxxx**
> 
> **happy for u Vitya**
> 
>  
> 
> **ohlookab00bies**
> 
> **O la la~ don’t forget us now Vitya ;)**
> 
>  
> 
> **dickdick492**
> 
> **holy shit is he actually blushing??? are you actually blushign/?**

 

Viktor couldn’t help but beam at this, feeling blood rush up to his cheeks now that someone had mentioned it like that. He feels a little more encouraged. He could talk to them about this. Not a lot, but maybe a little. “I really, _really_ like him. But I don’t know how to talk to him.”

 

 

> **agnzls**
> 
> **how come?**
> 
>  
> 
> **cumslutfordaddy**
> 
> **Maybe we can help!!**
> 
>  
> 
> **ifvckinluvtits69**
> 
> **oh no what happened??**

 

Viktor licks his lips, then speaks. “Okay. So he’s shy? Like, he’s the shy type? And I, well, you know me, I _don’t_ want to scare him off. And we only just met, so I haven’t gotten to talk to him _much_ , but I think in the coming weeks, I’ll be able to talk to him more. What should I do?”

 

 

> **vgreen74**
> 
> **Just pull out your schlong, that’ll do**
> 
>  
> 
> **cumslutfordaddy**
> 
> **FUCK OFF VGREEN74**
> 
>  
> 
> **vgreen74**
> 
> **fuck you, that was serious advice #dicksout**
> 
>  
> 
> **agnzls**
> 
> **just ignore the guy lmao**

 

And to Viktor’s surprise, they start giving him _actual advice_. Like, advice that’s actually _helpful_. He nods as he reads the words flashing on the screen, reading them out loud so his viewers know he was taking them seriously. As the topic on how to woo a shy person seems to reach an end, Viktor automatically picks up on his cue to begin.

 

He thanks them for their advice profusely before he sits up, getting on his knees, and tugs at the elastic band of his black boxer briefs. He makes sure there’s a good and clear view of his crotch in the camera, the outline of his dick visible. A hand ghosts over his length through the thin layer of cloth. Viktor thinks of how Yuuri had just been grinding into him earlier, the way his body was pressed up against his.

 

He openly palms himself and his eyes flutter shut, imagining it was Yuuri’s hand on his cock instead. In his mind’s eye, he’s back at Kachu’s again, with Yuuri’s weight on his lap. Yuuri, with his eyes clouded over with lust, and his chest heaving as he rocked against him, like earlier.

 

There are people all around, but it feels like there’s no one but them in that room. Instead of Yuuri pulling away, he runs a hand down the expanse of Viktor’s clothed chest, undoing the buttons to his dress shirt with his free hand. As Yuuri arched into him, Viktor would slip his hands into the man’s pole shorts, finding it far too restricting.

 

He pauses to pull his own boxer briefs down, his cock already half-erect at the mere thought of having Yuuri like this. He bites his bottom lip, reaching up to thumb at the bead of pre-cum that had formed on the tip of his dick.

 

Viktor was well-endowed, something that had also added to his reputation as the Living Legend of modern-day porn. Unlike others who overstated their sizes, he really _was_ big. No camera tricks, nothing. Viktor was a full nine-inches flaccid, and when he was fully erect, it filled in quite nicely. The girth of it was thick; enough to fill anyone or any hole to the very brim. Some people who had worked with him found it daunting, but in the end, they liked the challenge. They never hated it. Viktor made sure of that.

 

His fingers brush against the thick vein underside his cock and he groans softly. He pumps himself once, twice, then reaches for the bottle of lubricant. He pumps out a decent amount onto his hand and rubs his palms together to warm it up. Viktor strokes his cock to full arousal, wondering what it would feel like if Yuuri touched him like this.

 

Viktor slips the purple silicone cock ring on, settling snugly against the base of his girth. He reaches for the TENGA egg and peels the plastic cover off. It was a male masturbator made by a company in Japan, and Viktor liked collecting the different eggs they had. Sort of like the adult version of an egg hunt. He opens the egg up to reveal a soft egg-shaped silicone blob. He pulls a small plastic tube out of it, where it has a small packet of lube rolled up and shoved inside it. He sets the the tube aside and reaches for his own bottle of lube, pumping a generous amount onto his palm, then onto his own length.

 

He positions the cushiony egg over the bulbous head of his dick, making sure it’s positioned properly, before rolling the egg down. A choked moan escapes his lips, hips bucking up to meet his hand. The egg envelops his cock in its tight, wet silicone tube that was much like a condom. This TENGA Lovers Heart egg had heart patterns all over the inside of it, brushing against each and every inch of his straining cock. It wasn’t like the other masturbators he’s tried before, no—

 

He throws his head back, spine arching. No, it was much more _intense_. Fuck, it was a good thing he had a cock ring on then. He slowly moves his hand up and down his length, twisting his wrist as he does so, just to savour the feeling.

 

Viktor moans more audibly this time, movements growing a bit more quicker. He takes a moment to adjust his position so he could easily slip a finger into himself, making sure the camera gets a perfect shot of his movements. He reaches for the blue prostate massager, and when he deems himself decently stretched out, he slides the massager inside of him, adjusting it so it would find his prostate easily. He switches the remote for the massager onto its first setting and vibrations wrack his body. A guttural groan escapes his lips as he buries his face into the mattress. Fuck. That felt _so fucking good_.

 

Amidst all this, his mind can’t help but drift back to Yuuri. He wonders what the man would look like, pinned underneath him, face flushed and covered in sweat, writhing and crying out Viktor’s name. Just _thinking_ about it, just thinking about _him_ spurs Viktor on further. He switches the prostate massager to its second setting, his other hand rapidly pumping up and down his engorged length.

 

Viktor absently stares into the reflection of himself on the laptop screen, many comments popping up on the chat box, which he doesn’t read. He settles into the rhythm of rocking into his hand and back down onto the prostate massager, stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves. He can hear nothing but the sound of him fucking himself, pleasuring himself, his laboured breathing, the whir of the vibrator, and the wet squelching noises he’s making. It all feels so good, so _fucking good_.

 

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” he gasps out, drool dribbling down the side of his parted mouth and dripping onto the mattress.

 

What would Yuuri do if he saw Viktor like this? Would he be disgusted? Would he be turned on? Would he want to fuck him the way Viktor wants to fuck him? He barely notices when he switches the prostate massager up to its highest setting, losing himself to the overwhelming pleasure. He’s close, and he can feel it. He removes the TENGA egg from his dick and pulls the cock ring off, before continuing jerking himself off with his hand. He presses his face into the mattress, gasping as he found his release. Cum spurts out of his cock in thick streams, narrowly missing the camera. He can feel himself contracting against the prostate massager, his legs shaking. His mind goes blank for about two minutes before he finally comes to, eyes hazy as he leaned in closer to his laptop to look at the chat box.

 

His chest is sweaty; heaving. He’s trying to catch his breath. Seems like his viewers are just as astonished as he is. Because honestly, Viktor can’t remember the last time he had a mindblowing orgasm like that. Which, for a pornstar, was kinda sad.

 

He pulls away for a moment to switch the prostate massager off and pull it out of him, still slick with lubricant. He wipes his hands on the sheets and tries to sit up.

 

“Thank you guys for watching,” Viktor says, gasping for breaths in between. He winks at the camera, a smirk on his face. “’Til next time.”

 

With that, he runs his fingers over his laptop’s trackpad and officially ends the livestream show, which had actually lasted just over two hours. The page automatically redirects itself so it could show him his net earnings for this session. He turns away for a moment to lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, moving it away from his forehead.

 

It’s only then when he realises that he’s been thinking of Yuuri the entire time. His eyes widen in incredulousness, the flush on his face deepening. _Well_. That was certainly interesting.

 

After several minutes of lying in the bed motionless, Makkachin’s incessant scratching on the door reminds him that, yes, he still needs to take Makkachin out on his walk. He rolls onto his stomach to close his Macbook, and that’s when he finally looks at the laptop screen. He does a double-take, and scrolls through the tabulation just to make sure he wasn’t having a post-orgasm hallucination or anything.

 

His net earnings, which meant the studio had already deducted its share of the profit, had totalled to just about three thousand dollars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, some action!! bc this is a pornstar au, and i need to deliver!!! hahaha have i ever told u guys this is my first time writing explicit content like this?? so i hope it's good :D or, at least, somewhat mediocre
> 
> if ever ur curious about how i know so damn much about camera set ups for making videos, it’s bc i wanted to be a youtube makeup guru and create makeup tutorials n reviews (im trash) (i am also broke af) (hmu if u wanna talk makeup tho)
> 
> also!! u guys!! 500+ kudos??!?? thank u!! i'm so happy!! i hope you guys liked this chapter :D also if u have any suggestions for toys vitya (and maybe, in the future, eros) can play with, hmu! i chose a tenga egg bc i've never seen masturbators like those used in fics, or even prostate massagers tbh
> 
> i got too stressed with fb n tumblr so i made a [twitter](https://twitter.com/katsukidon_) where i could post quick chapter updates :D for realsies this time


	6. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri leans down to whisper in his ear, his voice low, “ _That’s it._ Just like that. _Very_ good.”

To say that Viktor was looking forward to his first official pole class with Yuuri was an understatement— he was downright _stoked_ , and he couldn’t wait to spend time with Yuuri today! And even though he always wanted to look good everyday in general, he wanted to look _extra_ good for him today.

 

He took a thorough shower and he’d gone ahead and taken the liberty of _shaving_. Yes, shaving. Not just his stubble, or his underarms, no, but his _legs_. Yuuri was worth shaving his legs for, okay? That in itself was a testament to how strong Viktor’s feelings™ for Yuuri were (whatever they may be, specifically), since Viktor didn’t shave his legs for just _any_ body.

 

And now, Viktor had cocoa buttered, silky soft, and freshly-shaven legs to prove it.

 

Now if he could just get Yuuri to _feel_ his legs somehow, that’d be really, really great. Not that it’d translate to the dance instructor feeling his emotions in any way or manner, unless he was one of those people who had a sixth sense (but can you feel emotions just by feeling up freshly-shaven legs? Or is skin contact the main point of it in general?), but hey! Who knows, right? _Maybe_ it could work. Maybe, but probably not.

 

* * *

 

It took a while for Viktor to choose what to wear, mainly since he wanted to be _comfortable_ , but at the same time, he also wanted to show off his assets.

 

His _Ass_ ets™, in particular. He wasn’t even going to lie. He has one of the best asses out there, among other people in the industry, and it’s A.M.A.! Ass Man Approved.

 

In the end, he settled on a form-fitting black V-neck shirt and a pair of tight black shorts he _knew_ would accentuate every curve of his ass. Christophe would be so proud. He was wearing his dance belt underneath it too. It was snug, but not in a way that it’d be uncomfortable. He’d just have to get used to it, is all. And it definitely did its job. He pulled on a pair of grey jogging pants on, just to keep himself decent when he’s walking to Lilia’s studio.

 

Before he left his apartment, Viktor took _one last glance_ — for real this time!— at the mirror, making sure not a single strand of hair was out of place. Everything had to be just _perfect_ — especially after the phenomenal night Viktor had indirectly, but then directly shared with Yuuri.

 

Viktor was ready to turn his charm on. He’ll sweep Yuuri right off his feet!

 

* * *

 

Viktor may or may not be struggling to turn his charm on right now. It usually came to him like second nature (hint: it was), but he just— _fuck_. He was nervous. Too nervous. Can you _believe it_? Him? _Nervous_? Since when did he _ever_ get nervous?

 

Even when he found himself in front of the camera for the first time, he hadn’t felt the slightest hint of trepidation. He was confident in his body, and he knew he was beautiful. He knew he could make it impossible for anyone to look away if he wanted to. And truth be told, nervousness was an emotion more foreign to him than most, so he didn’t really know what to do or how to go about it.

 

In effort to shrug his nervous energy off, he took a deep breath and stared at his reflection in the mirror for the umpteenth time, in one of the private practise rooms Yuuri had reserved for their lessons. He starts fiddling around with his clothes, trying to calm himself down. The once-motivational speeches and pep talks he gave himself were slowly devolving into something more along the lines of, ‘play it cool’, and ‘don’t be weird’, and ‘don’t fuck it up’.

 

Viktor had actually arrived at the dance studio a little earlier than their discussed meeting time. He’d been hoping he could talk to Yuuri for a bit before their lesson started, but according to the receptionist up front— her nametag read ‘Yuuko’— the dance instructor was still busy teaching his late afternoon intermediate pole class.

 

It was then when Viktor realised how busy Yuuri was, especially after having taken a peek at the man’s timetable on Yuuko’s computer screen. His schedule was booked down to the minute in Lilia’s dance studio, but there were a _lot_ of huge vacant gaps in some days. It piqued Viktor’s curiosity, honestly, how Yuuri went about his day when he wasn’t busy teaching pole classes, or taking ballet classes with Yuri, or performing at Kachu’s. He wondered how much free time Yuuri had left once one took all of that into account.

 

Maybe Viktor could occupy the rest of it. He had a few pretty good ideas in mind of just _how_ he’d spend Yuuri’s time.

 

(Hint: It involved little to no clothing.)

 

He finds himself lost in his wayward thoughts, growing more and more explicit as heabsently studies the room, which was relatively small— _definitely_ meant for private practise or lessons. The door was set to the right, while the full-length mirror and pole occupied the left side of the room. There was a stereo set with speakers on a small table tucked into the corner of the room, a small pile of rolled-up mats underneath it. The walls were soundproofed, mainly so the noise of the stereo wouldn’t interfere with any other ongoing classes.

 

He jolts in surprise when the door opens and in walks Yuuri, a bright peach Nike gym bag slung over his shoulder. “Hi! Sorry I’m late,” he says, closing the door behind him. Viktor chances a quick glance at his phone to check for the time and looks up at Yuuri again, feeling a bit flustered.

 

“You’re right on time, actually,” he says, watching in rapt interest as the dance instructor bends over to set his bag down near the stereo, then started setting up the sound system, plugging this wire and that into the outlet by the small table.

 

Yuuri _definitely_ just finished teaching pole class, since he hadn’t bothered changing out of his clothes yet, damp and clinging to every inch of his skin like a neurotic lover. His hair was slicked back again, and Viktor could see the gleam of slick sweat, illuminated by the dim lighting, running down the other man’s neck, all the way down to the hollow of his collarbones and his chest. Viktor honestly couldn’t help but stare, lips parted open and his mouth suddenly feeling dry.

 

“Still! You got here so early. Sorry to have kept you waiting,” Yuuri continues, pulling his phone out and connecting it to the stereo via aux cord.

 

Viktor clears his throat awkwardly, feeling more flustered than ever. “Right. It's fine, so don't worry about it.”

 

A brief silence falls over them as Viktor waits for Yuuri to maybe, possibly, bring up what happened that night? Because Viktor definitely felt a connection between them back in Kachu’s, so _surely_ Yuuri did too, right?

 

“Okay,” Yuuri says slowly, pressing a few more times on his phone, and instantly, upbeat [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93ASUImTedo) began to fill the room. He sets his phone back down and claps his hands together, smiling at Viktor. The latter nearly melts right then and there. “Let’s do some warm-ups first!”

 

“Right,” Viktor says again, still somewhat baffled. Literally _how is this happening right now_? Aren’t they going to talk about Kachu’s? Why isn’t Yuuri saying anything? Is Viktor the one who’s supposed to bring it up? “Let’s get down to business,”

 

( _To defeat the Huns,_ he mentally adds.)

 

Instead of taking his place in front of the mirror, Yuuri stands right in front of Viktor, and he honestly isn’t sure if he’ll be able to survive this. Yuuri raises his arms high above his head, shirt riding up to reveal a toned stomach. Viktor wants to run his hands over it. There’s a V that dips down Yuuri’s hips and Viktor finds himself wanting to mark the pale skin.

 

Almost a moment too late, he remembers he isn’t supposed to be just _watching_ , and immediately raises his arms up over his head. A small snort of amusement leaves Yuuri’s lips, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Alright. I’m pretty sure it’s a no-brainer, but before you do anything on the pole, you have to thoroughly stretch and warm up first. It doesn’t matter if you’ve just started, or if you’ve been doing it for years. It’s still an essential part of pole dancing.”

 

With that, Yuuri transitions to tricep and deltoid stretches, bending his arm down at the elbow and holding it with his other hand, and tucking it behind his head. “You want to make sure you’ve warmed up properly, or else you’ll stand the risk of pulling a muscle.”

 

Viktor follows through the warm-up to the best of his ability, even while distracted by Yuuri’s general presence. God, he looks absolutely _gorgeous_ like this. Viktor could literally stare at him the whole day and he’d be content with that.

 

Next are the hamstring stretches, very important. They stand with their legs a little wider than hip distance, feet facing forward and planted firmly on the floor, and they both lean down to touch the floor with both hands so they could stretch their hamstrings. Well, at least, Viktor _tries_ to. It stings more than Viktor would’ve thought, and for a brief moment he wondered if he was still as bendy as he thought.

 

“You need to do it with your back straight,” Yuuri says, standing up so he could correct Viktor’s posture. He lightly places his hand on the small of Viktor’s back, running it along his spine, and Viktor finds himself quickly making the adjustments needed. His fingertips are just a few inches or so from touching the floor. “Like so.”

 

Yuuri leans down to whisper in his ear, his voice low, “ _That’s it._ Just like that. _Very_ good.”

 

_Ohgodohgodohgod—_ Viktor’s eyes widen to the size of saucers upon hearing the tone of the other man’s voice, suppressing the urge to groan. Yuuri was full of surprises, wasn’t he? (And Viktor is **_hooked_**.)

 

“Come on, Viktor,” Yuuri says, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Just a little bit more. I know you can do it. Touch the floor.”

 

Viktor manages a small nod and touches the floor with his fingertips, just barely. If he wasn’t bent over at the waist right now with all the blood racing to his head, he had no doubt all the blood in his body would rush down south.

 

Oh, _shit_. How the hell was he going to get through the rest of this class _now_? Especially with every single cell inside of him screaming to pin the dance instructor against the wall and kiss him _senseless_ , and fuck him until even the most thorough warm-ups and stretching couldn’t hide Yuuri’s limp. The walls were soundproofed, after all. Might as well make the most out of them.

 

_Bad Vitya._

 

“Time for the next stretch,” Yuuri says, stepping back so he could sit on the ground with his legs on the floor and spread open. Viktor nearly trips over himself trying to get himself in the same position, unable to tear his eyes away from Yuuri for even just a moment.

 

Yuuri leans forward with practised ease and grabs onto his left foot with both hands. After five seconds, he reaches for the centre, and he and Viktor are so close together, if Viktor really wanted to, he could place his hands over Yuuri’s. Viktor spends the entirety of the next five seconds thinking about it, then wishing he’d done so when Yuuri switches his hands to cup his other foot.

 

From the open-leg position, Yuuri bends his right knee while bringing his heel to his butt, then he lays back, stretching the front of his bent right leg. His back is arched _beautifully_ in this position, and Viktor finds himself increasingly distracted, Yuuri’s neck exposed just so; Viktor absolutely just wants to _taste_ him.

 

“Not sure if you got the memo,” Yuuri starts, bringing Viktor out of his thoughts. There’s a coy expression on his face, the corner of his lip quirking upwards. “But you’re actually _supposed_ to be doing the stretches.”

 

“Sorry,” Viktor chirps, not sounding sorry at all. “I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

 

And _this_ is how Viktor somehow fucks things up. Instead of retorting with a quip or going along with the playful banter, Yuuri clams up entirely, his face turning a vibrant shade of red. Viktor stops dead in his tracks, wondering if he’s done something wrong. Was he too forward? Was it something he said? What was it?

 

“ _Okay_ ,” Yuuri says, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do the stretch again.”

 

Still confused (and slightly worried), Viktor follows through this time, hoping to get into the dance instructor’s good graces again. He really, _really_ doesn't know what he did wrong, and he hopes he won’t repeat it again.

 

As they finish up their warm-up, Yuuri gets to his feet and plasters on a smile on his face that looks much too fake for Viktor’s liking. He reluctantly stands up as well, eyeing the dance instructor cautiously. He briefly wonders if this is going to be a thing, and if he’ll ever be able to understand Yuuri as a person.

 

He couldn’t help but think of the man as an enigma, especially since Viktor couldn’t really get a hold on him— not at _all_. See, he wasn’t always good at reading the atmosphere most of the time, but he knew for _sure_ it wasn’t entirely because of his inability to understand people this time around. There was something undecipherable about Yuuri himself. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn't even know the man’s last name!

 

Was it a part of his aesthetic or something, or were there personal reasons behind it? If it were the latter, then what were they?

 

“For today, I’ll be teaching you the regular pole grip, the martini spin, and a few basic floorwork moves.” Yuuri says, cutting right to the chase. “We’ll start small, just for you to get the feel of it, then we’ll go from there. Generally, it’s easier to memorise the names of the moves when you do a routine, but we’ll get to that at a later date.”

 

He latches onto the pole with one hand, curling his fingers around it. “When you’re on the pole, remember that no oils or lotions on your body are allowed. It’ll affect your grip on the pole and it can cause serious injuries if you fall, since the pole will become slippery. Avoid wearing jewellery, and as much as possible, just take it slow. You don’t need to jump right into it straight away. Everyone starts out as a beginner.”

 

Viktor nods, slowly taking the information in. His eyes widen in alarm when he remembers the cocoa butter he’d applied on earlier, lifting his pant legs up to reveal the smooth, pale skin. “I moisturised earlier,” Viktor admits, feeling a bit sheepish. Even though he wanted Yuuri to feel him up, he didn’t want it to happen like _this_. “Do you think my legs are still slippery? Hold on, I’ll take my pants off—”

 

“Wait, _what_? In _front_ of me?” Yuuri quickly interjects, his voice strangely several octaves higher than usual.

 

Viktor smiles at Yuuri faux naïf. “Why not? It’s not like I’m _naked_ underneath or anything.”

 

Without a moment’s hesitation, he tugs at the elastic of his jogging pants before slowly pulling them down, front first. Yuuri’s face reddens tenfold as he looks away, apologies incessantly falling from his lips.

 

“What’s wrong? You know you can watch, right, Yuuri?” Viktor prods further, coming to the realisation that he actually _likes_ making Yuuri all flustered like this. He couldn’t help but find it absolutely endearing. He bites his bottom lip, winking at the dance instructor in the mirror’s reflection. “There’s no need to be _shy_.”

 

Viktor swears he hears something almost like an ‘Oh my God’ from Yuuri’s lips. He tosses his jogging pants aside, on top of his gym bag, and he can see Yuuri burying his face in his hands in the reflection of the mirror. Even then, it doesn’t hide the blush that reaches the tip of Yuuri’s ears. Viktor’s sorely tempted to reach out and caress the man’s waist, but he decides against it.

 

“What do you say, Yuuri? Am I good to go?”

 

Yuuri hesitantly casts a second’s glance at Viktor’s exposed legs before nodding hastily. “Yes, yes, you’re fine!”

 

“But you haven’t even touched them yet,” Viktor continues, trying to keep his taunting down to a minimum. Yuuri looks like he’s about to combust, and the last thing Viktor wanted to was _break him_. Not yet. “So how will you know? I might slip and get a concussion.”

 

Yuuri snorts at this, looking at Viktor incredulously. They stare at each other for several seconds, the tension between them almost palpable. Whereas Viktor has Bedroom Eyes™, Yuuri looks like an animal trapped in a corner. Finally, the dance instructor gives in.

 

“Okay, _fine_. Since you insist.” He awkwardly bends down and quickly runs his hand up the front of Viktor’s calf, eyes widening in surprise. “Your legs are so _smooth_ ,” he blurts out, immediately clapping a hand over his mouth as if he’d said too much. Viktor loves it. He is absolutely _living_ right now.

 

“I know right? I used cocoa butter on them. Aren’t they _silky smooth_ , Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri averts his gaze. “I guess? Sorry about that.”

 

“It’s _fine_ ,” Viktor practically _purrs_ , leaning in closer to the other man. “You’re free to touch my legs all you want.”

 

The ‘ _I shaved them for you, after all_ ’ goes unsaid.

 

“Um, no thanks,” Yuuri says, immediately pulling his hand away as if he’d been burnt. Viktor tries not to take offence at that. “Anyway, you’re fine. We should probably get started now.”

 

For a second there, Viktor pouts almost _petulantly_ before catching himself and stepping back to give the dance instructor enough space to move around the pole.

 

“This is a regular grip on the pole,” Yuuri says, wrapping two of his hands around the pole, with his right arm above and his left arm below. He repeats the action a few times before he explains, “It’s like how you would normally hold onto a pole, like if you were on a bus or something.”

 

Then he steps back, gesturing to the pole. “Now you try!”

 

Viktor flashes him a charming smile before making his way to the pole and following through with what Yuuri had done moments ago. He picks up on it quickly, and Yuuri moves onto the next item on their agenda, the martini spin.

 

“Before I teach you how to do a martini spin, you’ll need to learn how to walk around the pole first.”

 

Yuuri grabs onto the pole and cocks one hip out, his legs spread apart. “Okay, so you’ll have to place your dominant hand high on the pole and slightly lean outwards. When it comes to pole dancing, it’s all about the strut, so you’ll have to sway your hips, especially in time to the music if you’re performing to a routine. Strut as if you’re walking along a tightrope, one foot in front of the other.”

 

With that, Yuuri makes small, slow steps around the pole, movements growing faster and longer as he lifts himself off the ground and performs a basic martini spin. Viktor is _still_ awestruck. He’s never going to get over it whenever Yuuri does that. He’s _amazing_.

 

“That was a martini spin,” Yuuri says, before repeating the spin two more times. He quickly goes into the mechanics of the spin and lets Viktor try it out for himself with the additional strutting so he could pick up some speed. His hands burn from twisting around the pole, and he loses some of his momentum in the process. It’s definitely _harder_ than it looks, and yet Yuuri made it look so _natural_ , so _easy_. He couldn’t help but look at the dance instructor with heart-eyes.

 

(Viktor was definitely hooked.)

 

When Viktor’s finally grasped the fundamentals of the martini spin, Yuuri talks him through the basics of floorwork— moves not on the pole, but on the floor. First up is a move called ‘The Goddess’. Honestly, Viktor didn’t know what to expect, but when Yuuri got on his knees and slowly slunk down to the floor, his chest pressed flat against the wooden floorboards, literally _lifting_ his ass in the air so he could pull himself back up to his knees, Viktor’s brain took it as its cue to go haywire.

 

He literally blanked out right then and there, eyes trained on the dance instructor’s pert bottom as he demonstrated the move a few more times. When Yuuri says it’s his turn to do the same, Viktor _knows_ he’s barely absorbed anything other than the reminder that, yes, Yuuri’s ass is still _Amazing_ ™ as ever, but you know what? He’s gonna try anyway. And he’s going to _wing it_.

 

He gets on his knees (a familiar sensation) and stares up at Yuuri through his lashes before sitting in a kneeling position and placing his palms in front of him. He slowly surges forward, trying to move with the same fluidity Yuuri had. It feels clumsy, and he doesn’t get it correct right off the bat, but Yuuri makes sure to correct him on his posture nonetheless.

 

The last position for today is the Tick-Tock. Similar to The Goddess, Yuuri slides down to the floor with his chest and legs pressed firmly against the flat surface while he lifts hips up, using his thighs and his core muscles while he slowly moves his hips from side to side. Viktor’s immediately taken a liking to that particular position, mainly because he gets a view full of ass one moment, then Yuuri’s delicious thighs in another.

 

Even though all of this is purely instructional, there’s just something innately erotic about the way Yuuri moves that turns Viktor on. It wouldn’t be the first time Yuuri’s had this sort of effect on him. Probably won’t be the last either, if today’s class is anything to go by.

 

* * *

 

When their private lesson comes to an end, Yuuri promptly starts unplugging the sound system and tidying up the wires. Viktor tugs his jogging pants back on and chugs down half a bottle of water. He approaches the dance instructor, a question he’s been meaning to ask since, what, Wednesday? waiting on his lips and settling on the tip of his tongue.

 

“Yuuri,” he calls out, catching the dance instructor’s attention. “Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime, maybe before or after classes? It’s my treat!”

 

Yuuri grows still for a moment, before turning around to look at Viktor, his beautiful brown eyes regarding him cautiously. A small but genuine smile finds its way onto his lips as he slings his gym bag over his shoulder. “Hmm. We’ll see. I’ll think about it. See you next Tuesday, Viktor.”

 

The moment Yuuri walks out the door, Viktor scrambles to get his own bag and runs after him, hot on the dance instructor’s heels. “Was that a yes?” Viktor asks, because he _needs to know_. “Or was that a no?”

 

Yuuri casts a glance over his shoulder, a boyish smile on his face. “It’s a ‘maybe’.”

 

Viktor stops dead in his tracks, stunned and speechless. He couldn’t _believe_ his luck!

 

It wasn’t a downright _refusal_ — Viktor would’ve gotten the hint if Yuuri brought up babysitting his roommate’s hamsters, like what Chris had warned him of. No, instead, it was a _maybe_. The beginnings of ‘Something Beautiful’ seemed more real now than ever, and Viktor was determined to make the most of it.

 

He’s never felt so _strongly_ for someone he’s only just met before, and he doesn’t want to let this feeling slip away through his fingers. Wherever this thing between them may lead, Viktor was ready to dive right in.

 

* * *

 

** OMG!! WHAT’S IN MY BIRKIN BAG?! (FT. MY BFF!!) - YouTube  
** _Phichit Chulanont_

 

▶︎ _play_

 

“Hey!!” Phichit greets, waving a hand at the camera. He’s in the living room with the camera set up, and his hamster, Donkey (pronounced the way it is in Shrek, like _Dong-kay_ , please), is in his other hand. He’s wearing a simple black sweatsuit— but don’t be fooled, it’s Givenchy. “What is _up_ , everyone? Ya boy Phichit here, back at it again with a brand new video! If you are new to this channel, please click subscribe and give this video a thumbs up, that’d help me a lot.”

 

He leans back into the plush white leather couch, groaning in exasperation. “Oh my God, you guys. It was _so_ hot out today! Like, seriously, I felt like I was going to _melt_ my foundation off.” He pauses to run a hand through his damp, newly-washed hair. “Swear. I have been spraying my face with Urban Decay All-Nighter throughout the day, which is, like, one of the _best_ setting sprays out there. Well, for _me_. Anyways, as soon as I got home, I took a nice, long shower and it was the _best_ thing ever. Like, I have literally never felt so _clean_ and _fresh_. All that good stuff.”

 

“So I was pretty busy today. I had an outdoor photoshoot with my friend, Guang-hong, in collaboration for our summer lookbook! I am _super_ excited for it. It’s gonna be great. _So_ worth sweating underneath the sun for.” He sighs, carefully placing Donkey back in his cage. He reaches for something on the coffee table and pulls his handbag onto his lap.

 

“Okay, so this is the bag I used today,” he starts, showcasing the rich ostrich leather of the green bag. “This is my Birkin and I absolutely love it! I brought this with me for my shoot with Guang-hong, so I’m guessing you’ll find that I have a _lot_ of shit in here. More than usual, of course.”

 

In the background, a door opens and closes. Phichit immediately stops, a grin on his face. “Wait, I think that’s Yuuri. He just got back from a late afternoon dick appointment. I am _so_ proud of him. I’m surprised he came back so early though.”

 

Yuuri comes into view, visibly sweating in his sportswear.

 

Phichit turns to face Yuuri, motioning for him to come over. “Yuuri, you’re back!”

 

“Hey,” Yuuri greets, and they kiss each others’ cheeks in greeting. “Sorry, were you busy filming? I’ll stay out of your way—”

 

“No, no!” Phichit quickly interjects, clasping onto Yuuri’s hand. “Come hang out with us! Say ‘hi’ to the camera!”

 

Yuuri leans in closer, staring at the camera with uncertainty as he gives a small, hesitant wave. “Um, hi?”

 

Phichit immediately moves over on the couch, patting the spot next to him. “Sit, sit! I’m doing a ‘what’s in my bag’ challenge. Wanna join in?”

 

Yuuri’s smile turns sheepish. “Ah, in a bit maybe? I really want to take a shower right now.”

 

Phichit’s dark eyes widen, a scandalous expression on his face. “Oh. _Oh_. I see. Yeah, I totally get that.”

 

“Right,” Yuuri absently murmurs, moving out of the shot.

 

Phichit shoots a sly grin at the camera before turning back to Yuuri. “Come on! Spill, I need details!”

 

“‘Details’?” Yuuri echoes, voice faint from somewhere behind the camera. “Details about _what_?”

 

Phichit actually scoffs, a foot planted on the floor as he readies himself to follow Yuuri if need be. “Um, hello? I am _offended_.”

 

Several seconds of silence lapse as Phichit stares at him expectantly. Finally, Yuuri’s caught on, his voice high-pitched and laced with mortification as he speaks. “Oh my God, Phichit, no!! It isn’t like that!”

 

Phichit’s eyes narrow in a mixture of accusation and disbelief, a serious pout on his lips.

 

“It _isn’t_ like that!” Yuuri reiterates, “They’re just lessons!”

 

“But in _what_ , that is the question,” Phichit counters, the beginnings of a shit-eating grin on his face. “The art of lovemaking? _Fellatio_?”

 

A purple throw pillow flies into the shot, hitting Phichit squarely on the face. Yuuri soon follows, hitting Phichit with a black sequinned throw pillow. Phichit breaks out laughing, his body wracking with raucous guffaws as he curls into himself on the couch.

 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Yuuri says, voice still high with embarrassment as he leans over to tickle Phichit’s sides. The latter automatically kicks out, trying his best to pry the Japanese man’s hands off him.

 

* * *

 

The video suddenly cuts off, and jumps to reveal Yuuri and Phichit, sitting on the couch. They look dishevelled and they’re panting, with the two throw pillows on their laps. They’re eating celery sticks from a ziplock bag, dipping it into a small bowl of sour cream on the coffee table.

 

“So how was work?” Phichit asks, taking another celery stick out of the plastic bag on Yuuri’s lap before dipping it into the sour cream.

 

“Work? It was fine. The usual.” Yuuri says, leaning over to grab a bottle of sparkling water. He takes a tube of pink lemonade concentrate and squeezes it into the bottle, and the water slowly starts to turn pink. He twists the cap back on and slowly tips the bottle over. “You met up with Guang-hong today, right? How was the shoot?”

 

“It was great! It was so hot outside though, and it isn’t even summer yet. Before I forget, remember, we’re still on for that SoulCycle class tomorrow at ten.”

 

Yuuri nods, taking this bit of information in. “Oh, okay.”

 

“Alrighty then!” Phichit chirps, setting the pillow behind him and reaching for his Birkin. He nudges Yuuri with his elbow. “Yuuri, get your bag.”

 

“It’s a gym bag,” he says, “I’m not showing anyone my dirty laundry.”

 

“Your,” Phichit winks suggestively at Yuuri, “ _dirty_ laundry. Wouldn’t want anyone to see _mysterious stains_ or anything.”

 

Yuuri stares at him blankly before hitting him upside the head with his pillow again.

 

* * *

 

The video jumps to the two of them sitting on the couch again, Yuuri looking stressed with his head in his hand while Phichit still has that mischievous gleam in his eye. He raises his bag up to the camera, waiting for it to come in focus. “Alright, again, this is my Birkin. Green ostrich leather. I got it as a gift from my parents when I turned eighteen, so yeah! This is my first Birkin. Right now, I have two. But this is still my fave.”

 

Yuuri leans over to scoop two of Phichit’s hamsters, Donkey and Sahrai, out of their cage and onto his lap. “Hi, Donkey! Hi, Sahrai!”

 

“Yuuri, for the nth time, it is _Dong-kay_. Anyways,” Phichit opens up his bag and takes an empty water bottle out with crumpled tissues stuffed inside it. “And the first thing in my bag is trash. Don’t worry, there’s probably more where that came from. Okay, since Guang-hong and I were _so_ hungry, we couldn’t wait to go out of the park anymore to have a proper lunch, so we had hotdogs in the park. They were, like, _really_ good though. Guang-hong’s been here often enough so he knows the vendor and all. I had a chilli cheesedog. Let’s just set this aside.”

 

He places the bottle on the coffee table and Yuuri’s still sitting beside him, alternating between going through his phone or watching Phichit rummage through his bag. “Here we have my wallet,” Phichit says, bringing out a long black wallet that looks well-worn. “This is really old, but the leather gets better the more you use it.”

 

He raises the wallet up to the camera, letting it come into focus. “It’s Prada. I always tell myself I’ll get around to buying a new one, but then I _never do_. I’ve had this for, like, four or five years now? It’s super high quality. I love it.”

 

Phichit sets the wallet aside and pulls out his makeup bag out. “This is the pouch where I keep all my makeup, it’s Louis Vuitton, and if I open this _now_ , this video will be ten times longer than it already it is. It’s like opening Pandora’s box. But if you guys want me to make a separate video for what’s in my makeup kit, let me know in the comments below!”

 

Yuuri puts Sahrai and Donkey back into their cage and gets up, moving out of the shot.

 

“Here’s my setting spray. Urban Decay All-Nighter,” Phichit says, taking a few aerosol cans out of his bag. “Evian facial mist, and my hairspray, Bed Head After-Party. They’re part of my Holy Grail items.”

 

“And this is my favourite perfume by Chloé. I always have it on me, and I know it’s for girls, but,” he pauses to uncap the bottle with its signature cream bow around it, taking a whiff. “it smells _so good_. It’s, like, my signature scent. Like when people smell this perfume? It reminds them of _me_. It’s like I conditioned them to think of me without even meaning to. Like Pavlov.”

 

Phichit brings out a bunch of wires tangled up together in a cluster. “Okay, it may not look like it right now, but these are my earphones. _Were_ my earphones. And my charger too. I absolutely cannot go through the day if I don’t have my charger and powerbank with me,” he continues, digging a white powerbank and a black selfie stick out of his bag. “If I don’t, then I get really paranoid that my phone is going to die since like my entire _life_ is on my phone, and I can’t go through the day without it. Just ask Yuuri, he’ll attest to that.”

 

He pulls out wads of receipts, packs of Orbit gum, a black face mask, and handfuls of loose pocket change, setting it down on the coffee table, and in the background, Yuuri is scolding him for making a mess. Phichit brings out his house keys and a pair of Moschino sunglasses.

 

“Very important to protect your eyes,” he says, leaning in towards the camera, and in a hushed, conspiratorial whisper, “ _So you don’t end up walking around half-blind like Yuuri_. Swear to God, I tried his glasses on once, and it was like I was tripping on _acid_ or something. Like, it’s _that_ bad. Whenever he wakes up in the morning and forgets to wear his glasses, he goes around bumping into things around the house—” Phichit starts to count it off on his fingers one by one. “The doorframe. The wardrobe. The fucking _coffee table_. The edge of the counters in the kitchen. He stubbed his pinky toe once in the dining room, and he curled up into a ball for, like, an _hour_. Yeah, it’s fucking _terrible_. Especially when he hasn’t had his coffee yet.”

 

“I got him one of those stringy things you connect to your glasses? The ones you wear like a necklace so you don’t lose them. Yeah, he didn’t like it _at_ all. He said I made him feel like I was treating him like an old Japanese man living alone in the mountains and near the village shrine as a caretaker, where nothing ever happens. Maybe I could just dig out my old Bedazzler and rhinestone the fuck out of them and try again. It’ll be funny.”

 

And at the bottom of his bag, he digs out the rest of its contents— packets of lube and condoms. It was a handful’s worth, or more. “Of course, being the hoe I am, I _always_ have condoms and lube on me. I _always_ use protection, no compromises.” He raises the multi-coloured packets up towards the camera, waiting for it to come into focus. “These are all different brands, different flavours. I like to shake things up a bit with the textures and flavours, but my favourite are these ones from Durex. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. There is nothing wrong with carrying a bunch of condoms and lube in your bag. There’s nothing wrong with having safe sex, so don’t let anyone ever shame you for that.”

 

He sets the condoms down on the couch and tips his Birkin over to see if there’s anything else he might have missed. A penny falls out and hits the carpeted floor with a muted thud. “There’s nothing else left,” Phichit says, tilting his bag upright and placing it on his lap. “That’s it for today. Please don’t forget to subscribe to my channel and give this video a thumbs up, and if you click in the description box, you’ll find my IG, my Snapchat and my Twitter. I post videos everyday, so I’ll see you guys tomorrow! Bye!”

 

With that, the video fades to white, **Phichit Chulanont** flashing on the screen along with other related videos floating around it.

 

◼︎  _stop_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! sorry for the delay, I got caught up in school OTL I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I added Phichit's vlog as a bonus for taking so long /bows
> 
> y'all should listen to Phichit, he speaks the truth lol
> 
> i'd like to thank u all for reading!! ily all ❤️ let me know what u guys think! :D
> 
>  **extra notes:**  
>  Phichit has a total of four hamsters, two of which weren't included in this chapter:  
> Donkey - named after Donkey in Shrek - male  
> Sahrai - Thai for seaweed (สาหร่าย) - female  
> Pangpond - Thai comic character of a 5 y/o boy (ปังปอนด์) - male  
> Baitoey - Thai for pandan leaf (ใบเตย) - female
> 
> impromptu thai lesson!!  
> the thai words aren't always pronounced as they're spelled. especially baitoey, like it's not pronounced as toe-y, like the body part. But it's sort of like 'tey' with a long 'o' before the 'e'. Bai-toei. and Pangpond is pronounced as Pang-pohn. 'pohn' generally used to also be spelled as 'porn', but it's bad when romanised, so for the sake of decency, it's now 'pohn' lolol
> 
> Sahrai is also pronounced with Sah, the 'ah' sound rising up (it's bc of the S sound or the ส), like you're asking a question. Then 'rai' is pronounced with a softer exhale with the sound going downwards bc of the 'h' sound (ห) and the 'mai-ek' sound (่), which changes the way a word is pronounced, and consequently, its meaning
> 
> if ur curious how i know so much about this language, it's bc i know how to speak it lol so I was vvv proud to see Phichit representing SEA and Thailand in YOI (best boy Phichit!!!) if u have any questions regarding the thai language or culture, feel free to message me on Tumblr lolol
> 
> 'til next time! ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> [tumblr](http://ragdollyouth.tumblr.com/)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/katsukidon_)  
> tracking tag: #iwstblt


	7. seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, Chris hasn’t seen Viktor so invested in someone in a very long time. Yuuri’s a great guy, especially once you manage to get him out of his shell. And Viktor’s the type of person who wants to bring out the best in others. It may be too early to say this now, and there is a chance it might never happen, but if they both gave it a try, they could make each other really happy.
> 
> He wants to see how it’ll play out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! pls listen to Eros' music when u see the link, it'll make it 1000x much better ❤️

_Thumpthumpthump—_

 

“Viktor!!”

 

**_Thumpthumpthump—_ **

 

“Viktor! I know you’re in there! You open this fucking door right this instant!”

 

Viktor inhales sharply as he jerks awake, sitting up so fast, his head is spinning. Is that Yura? Why’s he here so early in the morning? _Fuck_ , what if something bad happened to him?! The thought alone sends him flying out of his bed, fumbling on his way to the door. “Just a second, Yura!”

 

Makkachin’s already there, tail wagging and barking at the sound of Yuri’s voice, who’s still incoherently screaming something laced with the familiar syllables of expletives. Yuri thumps on the door again, which isn’t proving to be helpful at all as Viktor shakily tries to undo the locks on the door.

 

“Calm down, will you?” He calls out, finally unlocking the door and opening it to let Yuri in. “What’s wrong? Are you okay, are you hurt?”

 

Yuri brusquely shoves past him, the expression on his face downright _furious_. It wasn’t the normal type of Yuri-angry, but a _real_ type of Yuri-angry. It was something Viktor had rarely seen in his life, and as young as Yura was, Viktor knew his cousin wasn’t joking around this time. His heart clenches in his chest out of anxiousness as Yuri paces for a moment, running a hand through his hair, before whirling around to face him. “What the hell are you doing?”

 

And for a moment there, Viktor stares at him blankly, taken aback and utterly baffled. “What? What are you talking about? Yura, it’s early in the morning, all my neighbours could have heard that. You nearly broke my door down, now tell me what’s wrong!”

 

Yuri looks at him like he’s stupid (which is, sadly, not the first time that’s happened). “Okay. First of all, you’re in the fucking penthouse suite. _The penthouse_ , Viktor, that means you’re the only one living on this goddamn floor! And secondly, you’re doing the _thing_ again!” He raises an accusatory finger and jabs it into Viktor’s chest. “With _Katsudon_ of all people!”

 

“‘Katsudon’?” Viktor echoes, growing more and more confused by the second. “The hell is that? _What_ thing?”

 

“I’m talking about _you_ hitting on Katsudon! Hello!? Yuuri? Yuuri Katsuki? Ring any fucking bells in that head of yours, or are you perpetually too fucked out to rub two brain cells together?”

 

“Ow, Yura,” Viktor says, scrunching his face up at him. What did he do to deserve getting roasted so early in the morning? By his little cousin, no less! “Why are you being so mean to me? And what does Yuuri have to do with anything?”

 

“I’m talking about _you_ corrupting and being gross with that— that pig! Of _all the people_ in this fucking city, of _course_ it had to be him!”

 

Viktor laughs incredulously, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I literally have no idea what you’re talking about. Why would I ‘corrupt’,” he pauses momentarily, making sure to use air-quotes. “Yuuri? Which I _won’t_ , by the way.”

 

Yuri shoots him a particularly nasty look. “You’ve always been a shitty fucking liar, Viktor. What kind of idiot do you take me for?”

 

Only then does it sink in that the ‘corruption’ Yuri’s been hinting at may or may not have to do with what— or _who_ , rather— he does for a living.

 

“It’s not like that!” He insists; but even then, the argument sounds weak to his ears. With the way Yuri is eyeing him with fervent disapproval, it’s safe to say he isn’t buying it either. Viktor winces, his expression growing sheepish. “Okay. So maybe it _is_ like that, but I’m not going to corrupt him! I just— I just think he’s very interesting, is all!”

 

Yuri squints at him. “‘Interesting’. You want in his pants because he’s ‘interesting’.”

 

“ _No_ ,” Viktor interjects, “It’s not just that!”

 

“So you _do_ want in his pants.”

 

When Viktor doesn’t immediately respond, aside from a rather telling expression on his face, Yuri throws his hands up and rolls his eyes. “Oh, you _shithead_! That is literally just _so_ _disgusting_! I know you probably aren’t going to listen to me, but _fuck you_ , I’m going to say it anyway! Leave Katsudon the fuck alone!”

 

He stomps closer, green eyes absolutely glowing with lividness. “I don’t want your pornstar bullshit stinking up _my_ personal life too! For fuck’s sake, I take my life in my hands every time I go on the goddamn Internet! And now _you’re_ going to fuck up my actual life too?! These are people I _know_ , Viktor! These are people I see on a day-to-day basis, and over my dead body I’ll let you fuck that up for me too!”

 

Viktor draws back, and Yuri does the same, the both of them stunned by the outburst. Viktor’s never seen Yuri act like this, _ever_ , and judging by the look on Yuri’s face, it seems like he didn’t expect it either.

 

Viktor is the first one to break the tense silence that had fallen over them, licking his lips. “Yuri, I—”

 

A beat. A pause.

 

_I would never hurt him? I would never want to hurt you?_

 

“Shut up!” Yuri cuts in tersely, storming out of the penthouse before Viktor could get another word in.

 

It leaves Viktor feeling utterly confused and helpless. He contemplates going after Yuri, but doing so might worsen whatever had just transpired between them. So he stays back, staring at the front door. Even as Makkachin nuzzles his legs in order to get his attention, he doesn’t say a word.

 

* * *

 

“I still can’t believe it,” Viktor remarks a bit later on in the day, after relaying the morning’s events to Chris over a late brunch al fresco. He takes a quick sip of his salted caramel latte before he continues. “I practically _raised_ him, you know? I’ve been there for him since even before he learnt his first curse word. I babysat him as a teenager, changed his diapers, watched Sesame Street and Blue’s Clues with him… This has never happened before with anyone else I’ve taken an interest in.”

 

“Well, I mean it _is_ Yuuri we’re talking about here. They’ve known each other for, what, at least five years now? So I get why Yuri would be like that. I think he’s just being overprotective. I mean, knowing Yuuri, I’d be inclined to protect him too. He’s like a cinnamon roll. Too good, too pure for this world.”

 

Viktor bristles slightly at the comment. “Yeah, I get that! But to protect him from _me_? I’m his cousin! It’s not like I’m some type of predator, or some random creep!”

 

“Yeah, but you _are_ a pornstar. Come on, Viktor, you know how complicated it is for us.”

 

Viktor sighs, running a hand through his hair— a nervous tick of his. He starts to jog his left knee in growing agitation. “Right. I forgot about that,” he admits.

 

See, in his twenty-eight years of life, he’s been with many, _many_ different people, from all sorts of backgrounds. Especially more so once he started working in the adult film industry. It was also around that point in time when things started to get more complicated, relationship-wise.

 

Generally, it’s easier to date someone who’s also working in the same industry as you are. They’re more open and more understanding, for one. They don’t get jealous, since they themselves already understand what being in the industry would entail. Then there’s that professional aspect they don’t let interfere with their personal lives, so even if couples in the same industry _do_ call it quits, most of the time, it wouldn’t really affect their work to a significant extent since there are a lot of other performers around in the industry to work with anyway.

 

So there’s that. Unfortunately, the thing that makes dating much more difficult for pornstars is dating people _not_ in the adult film industry. Sometimes, Viktor could share his life with someone, and in the end, he and whoever he was with wound up not being on the same page. Sometimes, they’d outright break up with him the moment they found out what he did for a living, because they just couldn’t handle it. Which was understandable, he supposed, but that doesn’t mean it hurt any less. They’d make it seem like it was some dirty, shameful secret, when in reality, it was just what he did for a living. It wasn’t like he was _cheating_ or anything, but he does know how others could take it that way (and in his experience, they have).

 

And sure. There _have_ been people Viktor’s been with who weren’t in the industry, who knew and were fine with him being a sex worker for most part. But in the end, it’d mean they weren’t as committed as he was, or at least committed enough to take their relationship seriously, just _because_ Viktor was a sex worker. Like what they had was just a means to pass the time, or something to brag about on nights out with friends. The stigmas people had against sex workers were just so _terrible_ and _endless_ , at one point, Viktor had wanted to give up on the notion of dating entirely.

 

Other performers made it work though. They were the luckier ones, in his opinion. In fact, there are some performers he knows who already have families of their own, and never have their careers interfered with their personal lives.

 

It makes him stop and think for a moment. He doesn’t know Yuuri very well, and he isn’t even sure if Yuuri will reciprocate what Viktor already feels for him. But just thinking about Yuuri rejecting him makes his heart ache.

 

While Viktor loses himself to his thoughts, he fails to take notice of the way Chris is studying him carefully. To be honest, Chris hasn’t seen Viktor so _invested_ in someone in a very long time. Yuuri’s a great guy, especially once you manage to get him out of his shell. And Viktor’s the type of person who wants to bring out the best in others. It may be too early to say this now, and there _is_ a chance it might never happen, but if they both gave it a try, they could make each other _really_ happy.

 

He wants to see how it’ll play out.

 

“Hey, earth to Viktor,” he calls out, playfully waving a hand in front of the other man’s face. “Is anyone there? Earth to Viktor!”

 

It successfully pulls Viktor out of his thoughts, and he jolts a little, staring at Chris in mild surprise before his expression grows a little more sad, a little more sheepish. “Sorry, I just— I really like him, okay? And I totally get why Yuri would be so against me being with him, like, I know I’ve made mistakes, and I’m definitely no poster child for normal relationships, but— But does it really have to be _that_ big of a dealbreaker?”

 

He leans back into his chair and huffs, picking up his drink and giving it a rattle, the coffee and ice sloshing about in its container. “I asked him out yesterday, right? So he told me he’d ‘think about it’. So I asked him again, and then he told me ‘maybe’. It _has_ to mean something, right? But what if he actually wanted to say no, but then he couldn’t, because then it’d make things awkward between us?”

 

Christophe laughs, amiably clapping a hand over Viktor’s shoulder. “Trust me, he didn’t reject you. If he wasn’t interested, then he would’ve turned you down right off the bat,” he makes sure to add a wink for good measure. “Take it from someone he’s oh-so kindly rejected.”

 

“Right. The hamsters.” Viktor bites his bottom lip and tries not to laugh. It was an immature thing, schadenfreude.

 

“The hamsters,” Chris reaffirms, leaning over the table with a moony expression on his face. “Ah, I remember it like it was just yesterday. After one of our pole classes, I walked right up to him and grabbed a handful of that _thick ass_ —”

 

Viktor throws his head back and downright _cackles_.

 

“—and I kid you not, it was _the_ most perfect ass I have ever held. Like, literally, just touching his butt could make you cry. Not like sad tears either, but tears of joy. Pure, unadulterated joy. It’s like a pillow sent from the gods,” he flourishes a hand before him as if reading an invisible marquee. “Not like that memory foam bullshit either, but it had equal parts firmness, softness, and all-around meatiness. And that _bounce_ , holy shit, whenever he would walk around the room! Sometimes I still weep happy tears thinking about it. It drove the rest of the class _insane_.”

 

Viktor lets out a dreamy sigh. “Yeah, he _does_ have an Amazing™ butt. I want him to sit on my face.”

 

“Where is the lie?” Chris asks, and they both burst out laughing. When it dies down moments later, he continues speaking. “So I asked him out to dinner, ‘just you and me’, I said, and you know what he told me? Do you know what he literally, _honestly_ told me? He said, and I quote, ‘Sorry, I have to look after my roommate’s hamsters today’. And I just _knew_ it was a rejection because it was the exact same thing he told one of our other friends when she asked him out like a week earlier.”

 

“That must’ve hurt,” Viktor comments, rubbing the back of his neck. “How’d you deal?”

 

Chris shrugs his shoulders and takes it in stride. “Better than expected at the time, surprisingly enough. But you, Viktor, you’re like the Chosen One.”

 

For a moment there, Viktor thinks of the movie _Kung Pow! Enter the Fist_ , and tries not to imagine Ling calling out to him in high-pitched squeals. When he turns his attention back to Christophe, the latter is digging around for something in his bag, before pulling out two tickets out and waving them in front of Viktor’s face. “Which is all the more of a reason to go see your lover boy tonight!”

 

Viktor gasps, immediately reaching his arm out to grab the tickets out of Christophe’s hand. “Holy shit! How did you get these? I tried to order tickets for the Saturday show, but they were already sold out by then!”

 

“Now, that’s not surprising. If Kachu’s shows on Wednesdays are already great, then what more the ones on Saturday nights, am I right? Trust me, it is _so_ worth it, the performances will blow you away. I even called ahead and made sure Yuuri was going to perform tonight!”

 

Viktor jumps out of his seat and practically tackles Chris into his arms, the latter merely laughing and patting Viktor’s back. The moment Viktor pulls away, Chris wastes no time getting right back into it, putting his game face on. He firmly places his hands on Viktor’s shoulders.

 

“Viktor. Dress formal tonight, okay? Go for something classy, but not gaudy. Maybe something sleek.” Viktor nods at this, blue eyes wide with rapt attention. Chris pulls one hand back and strokes his chin in thought. “And maybe buy him a bouquet. Yeah, that could work. Buy him a bouquet, something you can give him after his performance, and make sure it stands out, but in a _good_ way. So Yuuri will know without the shadow of a doubt that these flowers are from you, got it?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Viktor breathes out, already feeling dizzy with anticipation, knowing he’ll get to see Yuuri perform again.

 

He was beautiful when he moved, he was enthralling, _breathtaking_ — Viktor felt as if he could never get enough. And though it was too early to tell right now, he had a feeling he never would get enough of him.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, Viktor and Chris decide to meet up in front of Kachu’s Cabaret, where there are other people arriving in limousines and mingling by the front doors. Formal attire is right— there are plenty of people dressed in evening gowns and tuxes, and Viktor felt relieved he didn’t seem to be under or overdressed for the occasion.

 

There’s a lush red carpet sprawled out over the walkway leading to the front doors, fenced in with velvet rope, and the sides of it illuminated with lights. It’s all glitz and glamour, reminiscent of times past when going to events like these were a big deal. Viktor appreciated that. Yuuri and all the other performers at Kachu’s deserved it, like watching them perform was worth dressing up for.

 

They lingered for a moment in front of the building— there was someone Chris recognised in the sea of people, and they stopped for a moment so he could talk to them. The oddest thing, though. As Viktor glanced around, hands in his pockets, he’d caught people staring at him with this sort of recognition on their faces. He knew that look. It wasn’t unusual people would recognise him as Vitya in public, but given the context, this was the last place he’d expect people to recognise him as a pornstar. But hey! There was a first time for everything right?

 

Eventually, he and Christophe are both seated at their table in the front row, though their table was a bit off-centre. As everyone settles in, Viktor takes in the excitement buzzing in the air. The spotlights remain fixed on the thick velvet curtains, and when the lights finally dim down, cheers and enthused clapping fill the room. As he takes sip of his drink, he waits for Minako to make her appearance, but to his surprise, the curtains part to reveal three women onstage, dressed in resplendent gowns, sequinned and sparkling like stars in the night sky. Underneath the spotlight, they look ethereal and glowing, buxom bodies and rich caramel skin.

 

To his excitement, the pole is already set up behind them and there’s a mic in front of each of them. They wait for the audience to simmer down before they begin their performance. It’s a powerful a cappella number, their voices carrying out beautifully throughout the room. They sing in perfect harmony, and it’s a soulful performance that reverberates right down to his bones. A fantastic way to start off the performance, and just when Viktor thinks the performance is over, upbeat music starts to play through the speakers and the tempo starts to pick up, backup dancers coming in from both sides of the stage and dancing along to the thumping music. As the singers clap with their hands over their heads, the audience does the same, Viktor included.

 

When the song comes to an end, there’s only a brief pause as the singers make their way off-stage, the dancers walking forward so they could dance to a mash-up consisting of various pop, rap and EDM songs. At the end of the performance, they’re split in two groups and they exit through both sides of the stage, just as a smaller group of dancers come in, hands to their sides and hurriedly making their way to the middle.

 

Viktor’s heart leaps to his throat when he realises it’s _Yuuri_ standing in the very front of the stage, wearing a cropped pastel pink hoodie, high-waisted ripped jeans, fishnet stockings, and black platform boots. Viktor sits up straight and honest-to-god _shrieks_ , clinging onto Chris’ wrist for support.

 

“Oh my god, he’s _beautiful_ ,” Viktor gasps out, voice subtly raising in pitch. “He is _so beautiful_ , he’s _breathtaking_ , it’s literally shaking me to my core.”

 

Yuuri and the other dance members line up in a triangular formation, making eye contact with the crowd. Without wasting another moment, the [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9XlA1AVl_XM) begins to play, the dancers moving to every thumping beat in the very beginning of the song. Their movements are precise; not particularly robotic, but fluid and graceful. Every word in the song is accentuated with a movement, and Viktor finds himself feeling absolutely enraptured with Yuuri as he moved across the stage, the other dancers occasionally moving out of the formation while Yuuri remained a constant.

 

And all throughout, like the love-struck man he is, Viktor finds himself babbling endlessly about how absolutely _gorgeous_ Yuuri is, so talented, so perfect.

 

When Yuuri’s eyes meet his, it feels like the air has been knocked straight out of Viktor’s lungs. The corner of Yuuri’s lips pull up into a playful smile as he steps forward and makes an open gesture with one arm. Yuuri’s eyes never leave his and vice-versa, so one can only imagine just _how quickly_ Viktor loses the last vestiges of his composure and self-control when it nears the bridge of the song.

 

_‘If you say you want a good time, well here I am baby, here I am baby.’_

 

Yuuri performs an arabesque and raises his an arm above his head before sinking down to the floor on his knees, moving himself forward, a hand behind his head beckoning. He stretches himself outward, a hand supporting the weight of his body as the other one clutches at his chest and he moves his hips upwards before sitting back down on the floor.

 

_‘Talk to me, talk to me, talk to me, tell me what’s on your mind.’_

 

Yuuri turns to the opposite side and sets both his hands on the floor before lifting his right leg high up and sinking back down, _grinding_ against the floor. The reaction is immediate, when the room suddenly bursts into high-pitched whistles and cheers. Viktor is no different, most definitely Freaking The Fuck Out™ with Christophe only laughing raucously when Viktor swears he’ll marry this boy.

 

He _will_ , he so definitely will. Yuuri _is_ Makkachin’s new (albeit unofficial) daddy, after all.

 

The moment the song comes to an end, the crowd bursts into a round of applause. The dancers are quick to retreat from one side of the stage, a group of burlesque performers entering from the other. The show must go on, after all.

 

* * *

 

**Phichit Chulanont (@phichit+chu) • Instagram photos and videos**

 

>  
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> **phichit+chu** 1hr
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> On Phichit’s Instagram story, there’s a slightly grainy clip of Yuuri dancing onstage to a pop song. It zooms in on the coy smile on Yuuri’s face before the camera eventually pans over to the enamoured expression of one smitten Viktor Nikiforov.
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> **‘heart eyes, motherfucker [heart eyes emoji]’** , the caption reads, placed diagonally across the video.
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> **phichit+chu** 1hr
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> The next clip is of Viktor clutching onto Christophe Giacometti for dear life, visibly (though, unfortunately, not audibly) screaming as Yuuri practically humps the floor.
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> **‘fOR THE LOVE OF GOD GET MARRIED ALREADY’**
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> **phichit+chu** 46m
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> Phichit posts a selfie of him with his arm wrapped around a surly-looking Korean, dressed in hip-hop dancing garb.
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> **‘selfie with oppa before he leaves [kissy face emoji][heart eyes emoji]’**
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> **phichit+chu** 24m
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> Yuuri is sitting in a black leather chair, eyes downcast as Phichit holds his phone in one hand and applies highlighter to Yuuri’s cheekbones using a fluffy fan brush in another.
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>  
> 
> “Look at that glow,” Phichit says, Yuuri automatically moving his head to the side to give the camera a better view. He slowly nods his head up and down, the highlight catching the backlight of Phichit’s Lumee case perfectly. “It almost looks kind of _wet_ , even! I am shook.”
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> **phichit+chu** 19m
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> The next video clip that plays is a close up of Yuuri, with Phichit steadily and slowly applying nude matte liquid lipstick to Yuuri’s lips using the doe foot applicator.
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> **phichit+chu** 15m
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> “Finishing touches!” Phichit chirps, spritzing some setting spray on Yuuri’s face. “You look _so hot_ , I’d turn straight and go back to being gay for you—”
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> Yuuri and Phichit burst out into laughter, the former swatting Phichit’s hand away.
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> **phichit+chu  
>  ** Kachu’s Cabaret **  
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> [There’s a close-up photo of Phichit’s handiwork, AKA Yuuri’s makeup, which is a gold halo cutcrease eyeshadow look with sharp winged liner, falsies, a nude matte lip, and highlight that leaves his skin _glistening_.]
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> **2,409 likes**
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> **phichit+chu** @katsukidon’s #MOTN by me [kissy face emoji] #wannabeMUA [shocked emoji][sparkling heart emoji]
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> View all comments
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> **christophe-gc** I know someone with me who’s smitten [winky face emoji] @v-nikiforov
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> **v-nikiforov** [several heart eyes emoji] OMG!!!!
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> **phichit+chu** @chrisophe-gc @v-nikiforov [speak-no-evil monkey emoji]
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> **phichit+chu** 1m
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> “Just a little something to take off the edge,” Yuuri says, dismissively waving a hand dipped in gold pigment at Phichit as he downs a few inches of whiskey in one go. He hands it back to Phichit, wincing, and takes a deep breath before sauntering onstage, dressed to the nines for his second performance of the night. Not that it’d particularly matter in a few minutes anyway.
> 
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* * *

 

The moment Yuuri makes his second appearance onstage, Viktor’s sure he falls a little bit more in love. He’s dressed in a thick black fur coat that goes all the way down to the floor, and his eyes sweep the audience before his gaze locks with Viktor’s. He smirks for a brief moment, making his way to the centre of the stage as the music starts to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-GzCLT6Wf4). He shrugs off one side of the fur coat, then the other, before running a hand across his neck, all the way down to his chest, gold pigment easily and seamlessly coating his skin like liquid metal. He arches his neck upwards, eyes fluttering close as he does so.

 

In one quick movement, he drops the fur coat entirely, dressed in nothing but a black corset and pole shorts, sheer black thigh-high stockings, and classic black stripper heels. He stretches his hands out and grips onto the pole, leaning back onto his heels and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

 

As a woman begins to sing, he presses himself flush against the pole, the metal cool against his exposed back. He slides down slowly, hips gyrating in absolutely hypnotic motions, before bending down and running a hand up his leg, across his stomach and chest. As the tempo starts to pick up, he wraps one hand around the pole and starts to strut around it, before easily lifting himself off the ground and climbing up the pole, high off of the ground. He clings onto the pole with one hand and does a vertical split, slowly spinning around the pole in an allegra position. He twists his body and presses his stomach against the pole, changing it to an inverted thigh hold, a leg close to the pole while the other is splayed out. Yuuri curls into himself, tucking his knees close to his chest with the pole in between them as he does a crouch spin, before slowly spinning back down the pole.

 

He reaches for the pole behind him, arms held high above his head, and rolls his hips before sinking down into a perfect split. Yuuri then crawls forward on his palms and knees, movements slow, sultry, as if he were a predator languidly searching for his next prey. His eyes land on Viktor and he smiles, lashes fluttering against the tops of his cheeks, before sitting up and running his fingers along his inner thighs, spreading his legs with his back arched.

 

Yuuri is sex on legs. There’s definitely no doubt about that. Take it from the Living Legend™ of modern-day porn, none other than Viktor ‘Vitya’ Nikiforov himself. He sees Yuuri like this, and he feels overwhelmed with just how much he _wants_. He _wants_ Yuuri, and badly. And with the way Yuuri looks at him, eyes hooded and pupils dilated, Viktor thinks Yuuri knows it too. Especially with those coy smiles, the taunting tilt of his lips. He _knows_ Viktor can look all he want, but he can’t ever touch. He can’t— not unless Yuuri will let him.

 

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to think straight around him.

 

He can’t do anything but watch as Yuuri goes to the left side of the pole and grips onto the pole with his hands behind his head, slinking downwards closer to the floor. He uses it as leverage to lift his hips, all the weight on resting on his legs as he grinds upwards, thrusting and undulating his hips. With a quick movement, the ribbed corset easily comes undone and is tossed haphazardly somewhere onstage, leaving Yuuri’s chest bare save for the streak of gold that runs down his throat and chest. The cheers from the audience grow more raucous, and it feels more than a little bit hotter in the room. Viktor fidgets with his clean-cut tux, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt. This man will be the _death_ of him.

 

The song had reached a small lull when Yuuri gets back up on his feet and saunters around the pole, gripping onto the pole tightly with one hand. Slowly, he lifts himself up from the pole little by little, still spinning around it and gradually gaining more speed. He has one knee raised up and pressed against the spin pole, while the other one is stick straight and pointing downwards.

 

Exerting more effort, he grabs onto the pole with his other hand and extends his legs out into an Iron X before carefully pressing himself back against the pole for a sturdier grip. Without missing a beat, he lifts his legs up into an aerial invert, still spinning around the pole, before sliding down the pole into a straight-legged scorpio. He evens his legs out in a split hip hold, and once again, Viktor is amazed with how _bendy_ Yuuri is. Yuuri is clinging to the leg that’s right in front of him— and _holy shit_ , that definitely _has_ to sting, right?— and holds that position straight for several seconds.

 

Yuuri returns to doing an aerial invert before twisting his body to perform his signature move, ‘Eros’, just as the music comes to an end. When the performance is done, he slowly lowers himself from the pole and bows to the audience, picking up his fur coat and corset and making his way backstage.

 

* * *

 

“You done eating yet?” Chris immediately prompts, while everyone else is still applauding for Yuuri’s performance. A group of men dressed in drag go onstage for the continuation of their skit, followed by one of Kachu’s famed ‘boylesque’ performances.

 

Viktor takes a moment to glance down at his half-eaten dessert before he takes another quick bite and nods his head. He grabs the flowers he got for Yuuri from the seat beside him and readies himself to get up. “Yeah. Come on, let’s go.”

 

Chris sets his table napkin down and they both discreetly leave their seats. They head over to the far side of the room near the stage, where the entrance backstage is.

 

“Sorry, but this area is for performers only,” a man standing by the door is quick to say, stopping them in their tracks. Chris gives the man a look, and the latter immediately backtracks, letting them go backstage. Even near the end of the show, the area is still buzzing, people with headphones and walkie-talkies rushing about the area, and performers still dressed in their costumes huddled in groups and lingering near a craft services table. There are a lot of people Chris recognises, and when they pass by, he makes sure to say hi.

 

Viktor’s skin is practically buzzing with anticipation, and his hands are slightly trembling from how excited he is to see Yuuri again. He steels himself and tries to get himself together (AKA keep his thirst in check), hoping Yuuri will like the flowers he got for him. It’s when they’re nearly at the end of the hall when Viktor sees it; a black door with a silver star on it, ‘Eros’ embossed on its tempered glass surface. Chris knocks on the door and calls for Yuuri. Viktor can hear some shuffling in the room, muffled voices, and moments later, it’s Yuuri’s roommate— Phichit, was it?— who opens the door, beaming at them.

 

“Hi guys! Come in, come in!” Phichit chirps, and immediately, Viktor is hit with the overwhelming scent of flowers. As he and Chris make their way inside, Viktor’s heart skips a beat the moment he sees Yuuri sitting at the dressing table in a white robe, his back turned to them and the silhouette of his frame illuminated by the warm lights of the vanity mirror. It’s only when Viktor tears his eyes away, he realises that, _oh_ , almost every conceivable flat surface is covered with flowers. Lots and lots and _lots_ of flowers. Some are in bouquets, others are in glass vases— there were a _lot_ of red roses, and some were a mixture of different exotic blooms. There are small cards on top of each and every one.

 

Viktor has a hunch what Chris had told him earlier tied into, well, _this_. Whatever ‘ _this_ ’ is. Maybe Yuuri was just very, _very_ fond of— he pauses, eyes landing on a bouquet with roses made out of hundred dollar bills— _flowers_. Yes. It was totally possible.

 

Yuuri’s makeup still looks perfect when he turns to face them, cheeks flushing a bit more red the moment he sees Viktor, lips parting in surprise.

 

“V-Viktor, Chris, what are you two doing here?” He stammers, getting out of his chair. He glances at the flowers and winces. “Um. Sorry about the mess— and the smell. It’s only really bad on Saturdays, I swear.”

 

“Hi Yuuri!” Viktor exclaims, finding it hard to contain his excitement when Yuuri is just _right there_. He beams at the younger man and steps forward, sorely tempted to tackle him into a hug. Instead, he gives Yuuri a black rectangular box. “I got these for you. You were _wonderful_ earlier, really.”

 

“Thank you, but you really didn’t have to get me anything,” Yuuri says, opening the box anyway. He gasps softly, eyes wide in surprise. “Blue roses?”

 

“That’s a first,” Phichit offhandedly comments, but Viktor doesn’t really pay it any heed.

 

All his attention is focussed on Yuuri, who’s thumbing at a velvety blue petal of one of the roses, a small, gentle smile on his face. There were two dozen roses in the box overall, long-stemmed and tied together with a silky white ribbon. When Yuuri glances up at him, his expression is warm, but there’s also this look in his eyes Viktor can’t quite decipher for himself. “They’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you.”

 

“I’m glad,” Viktor says sincerely. Chris clears his throat and Viktor remembers what he’s also came here to do. “Yuuri, would you like to go out on a date with me?”

 

Yuuri casts a quick glance at Phichit before refocussing his gaze on the man before him. “Um,” he pauses, licks his lips nervously. “When..?”

 

“I’m okay whenever, but how about tonight?”

 

“T-Tonight? Like, after this?”

 

Viktor beams at him and winks. He takes immense pleasure in seeing Yuuri’s face flush tenfold. “No time better than the present, am I right?”

 

“I— _Wow_ , that was cheesy,” Yuuri says, trying to stifle a giggle.

 

“The absolute worst,” Viktor concurs, voice dropping down to a purr. “So how about it, Yuuri? Run away into the night with me.”

 

Yuuri snorts. “Sounds like the plot of an indie teen movie.” Then his expression softens. “Sure. Why not?”

 

And it’s just about at that point where Viktor drops his façade of supposed coolness. “Really?! Oh my god, that’s— that’s _great_ , that’s _awesome_! Let’s go now! I want to whisk you away!”

 

“I should probably change into something else first?” Yuuri glances down and motions to his robe.

 

“Yeah, you probably should,” Viktor breathes out, “Though, honestly, I wouldn’t mind either way.”

 

Yuuri laughs, playfully nudging Viktor’s arm. And for a moment there, it’s like Viktor can hear the sound of a shutter going off. Weird. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

 

He pulls away and sets the box of roses down on his dressing table, before picking up a black backpack. “I’ll just change my clothes. I’ll be out in a sec.”

 

With that, he heads to the en suite connected to his dressing room. The moment the door is locked shut, Chris and Phichit immediately start clapping.

 

“ _Wow_ ,” Phichit says, slightly in awe. He slowly sets his phone down. “Just _wow_. I’m not saying I could practically feel the sexual tension from all the way here… But I could practically feel the sexual tension from all the way here.”

 

Chris claps a hand over Viktor’s back. “It’s like we weren’t even in the room with you guys. Not gonna lie, I am only _slightly_ turned on right now.”

 

Phichit laughs, before turning to Viktor. “Hey Viktor, can I just talk to you in private for a moment? You don’t mind, right?” He looks at Chris, who only nods in understanding before exiting the room, closing the door behind him.

 

“Now, I just need to lay down a few ground rules,” Phichit’s voice is unnervingly saccharine as he speaks, dark eyes glinting dangerously under the dim lights of the room. “If you do anything— and I mean _anything_ — at all to upset or hurt my best friend, I will personally make sure that you will _never_ be able to make another porno movie _again_. Are we clear?”

 

Viktor gulps, taken aback and slightly fearful for his life. “Yeah, crystal.”

 

All vestiges of intimidation immediately disappear from Phichit’s face without a trace as he beams. “Okay, cool! Good talk. Don’t forget, I’m the wedding planner, okay?”

 

He strides over to the door and lets Chris back in, the latter giving him a knowing look. It’s just in the nick of time too, because just mere seconds later, the door to the en suite opens and Yuuri peeks his head out. He’s already wearing his glasses again. “Phichit, I thought you told me you packed me an extra shirt?”

 

Phichit grins, slow and wide. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I did. It’s just right there.”

 

“It’s _not_ a shirt!” Yuuri argues, waving a wadded up ball of cloth.

 

“It’s still a cute outfit.”

 

Yuuri sighs before ducking back inside the en suite. A few minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom in a navy blue RompHim male romper, fidgeting awkwardly. Viktor whistles. “Well, it’s not _that_ bad, I guess.” He admits, expression sheepish. “Literally where did you get this, anyway?”

 

“Doesn’t matter. There’s more to fashion than just sweaters and graphic tees, Yuuri. Seriously.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes meet Viktor’s and he quickly averts his gaze, face red.

 

“If I’m too overdressed,” Viktor starts, “then I can strip down too if you’d like.”

 

“That’s it, no more date for you.” Yuuri deadpans, and Viktor’s face falls.

 

“What? No! I’m sorry, I take it all back!”

 

Yuuri glances down, biting his bottom lip, before he bursts out laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

 

He moves to pick the box of blue roses up, but pauses when he remembers all the other flowers in the room. “Oh.”

 

“Don’t worry about it, Yuuri! I’ll take care of it!” Phichit interjects quickly, “Chris will give me a hand too!”

 

“I will? Oh. Oh, I mean, I _will_. You two love birds have fun on your date.”

 

Yuuri looks at Viktor almost hesitantly and Viktor meets his gaze, the corner of his eyes crinkling with how big his smile is. He stretches his hand out for Yuuri to take.

 

* * *

 

 

> **phichit+chu** 5m
> 
> It’s a photo of Viktor and Yuuri smiling at each other, with Yuuri in his robe and clutching a box in one arm and reaching out to touch Viktor with the other.
> 
>  
> 
> **‘THIS COULD BE THE START OF SOMETHING NEW [musical note emoji][microphone emoji]’**
> 
>  

* * *

 

“This,” Yuuri says, oddly expressionless and voice monotonous. “ _This_ is your car.”

 

“Yep!” Viktor says, beaming at his date— _his date_!!! Yuuri is actually his date!! Best day _ever_. He is #blessed. “Ain’t she a beaut?”

 

“Your car is pink.” Yuuri states, pulling Viktor’s suit jacket around him tighter.

 

“Ah, yes, it’s a Cadillac!” Viktor adds, as if it were explanation enough. Given how much Viktor paid for it, it better be.

 

Yuuri bites his bottom lip before getting in the passenger seat and strapping his seatbelt on. The night air is cool around them, since the roof of the convertible was pulled back, but Viktor’s coat is still warm from when he’d worn it for most of the night. Yuuri’s hand brushes against his and Viktor’s breath catches in his throat, his cheeks flushing a light red.

 

Yuuri smiles and Viktor smiles back, intoxicated with how much he already feels for the younger man.

 

“Well? Are you ready to be whisked away?” Viktor asks, a playful lilt to his tone.

 

Yuuri ensconces himself further into the seat, subtly moving closer to Viktor. “Just drive.”

 

Viktor starts the ignition and they drive off into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs:  
> [That's What I Like](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9XlA1AVl_XM) \- Bruno Mars  
> [Gangsta (BOXINLION Remix)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-GzCLT6Wf4) \- Kehlani
> 
> references:  
> \- Kung Pow is one of my fave movies esp bc of how deliberately shitty it is AHHAHA so if u wanna know what's running through Binktop's mind with 'chosen one', [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nIyHJFiBUkk) is it.  
> \- Also, the thing Yuuri does with that gold pigment? You can see where it was inspired [here](https://web.facebook.com/PatMcGrathReal/videos/vb.1378177609157390/1606268399681642/?type=2&theater), a video by Pat McGrath for her Metalmorphosis collection.  
> \- Yuuri's makeup consisted of Pat McGrath's Skin Fetish 003 in 'Golden' and Gold 001 + Kylie Liquid Lipstick in Exposed
> 
> YUURI IN FISHNET TIGHTS AND RIPPED JEANS. CROP TOPS. ROMPHIMS. YES. I AM ALL FOR IT, Y'ALL. I'm compiling a list of kinks I'll be including once they have sex, bc u bet ur bottom dollar they're gonna fuck like rabbits once they do. I'll edit tags as I go, and I'll update tags for now :D
> 
> Should I make a playlist for all the songs I've included so far? Also, be sure to read between the lines bc there are things I intended to be there, but weren't explicitly stated :D
> 
> Thanks for all the luv!! Next chapter's gonna be their impromptu date holy shit!!
> 
> Yell at me on [tumblr](http://ragdollyouth.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/katsukidon_)!


	8. eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He loves Yuuri’s laugh. He wants to keep on making Yuuri laugh like that, smile like that, look at him like that. Viktor is, without the shadow of a doubt, absolutely smitten with Yuuri.
> 
> It might be too soon to say it’s love, but it’s well on its way there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's [Audio Aesthetic](https://open.spotify.com/user/ragdollyouth/playlist/6j4ASUbn9fWxW5TJrK8AxR) on Spotify!

“So,” Viktor starts, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over them as he drove on the main road. “Where should we go?”

 

Yuuri meets his eyes in the rearview mirror, a fond yet slightly exasperated look on his face. “Well, _you’re_ the one who asked me out in the first place. I thought you’d have something in mind?”

 

Viktor laughs, though a tad sheepishly. “Haha, right. Touché. About that, honestly, I never thought I’d get this far, so I didn’t plan ahead like I should’ve. It’s still a bit surreal, actually.” Another pause, before he speaks again. “Yuuri, have you eaten yet?”

 

“Ah, well,” Yuuri sinks further into the seat. “Not yet. Phichit and I usually go to this diner nearby whenever I finish a show. It’s nothing fancy, but we can go there if you’d like..?”

 

“Anywhere you go, I’ll follow, _kotyonok_ ,” Viktor says easily, glancing around his peripheral vision for any diners. “Just point it out to me or tell me when we’re near. I still don’t know this area too well.”

 

“Sure,” Yuuri says, and then for a second, he looks at Viktor like he wants to ask him something. After a beat, he says instead, “They have good pancakes.”

 

“Pancakes, hmm? Not a waffle person, then?”

 

“Well,” Yuuri pauses; actually mulls it over. “No, like— I _know_ they’re kind of the same, but at the same time, they’re not? Like, I know waffles have more pockets for syrup, but I personally prefer pancakes. They’re a little more versatile, I think. Gives you more creative freedom.”

 

Viktor raises an eyebrow at that last sentence. He leans back and grins, hands clutching the steering wheel as he casts a quick glance at the beautiful Japanese man sitting beside him. Yep. Definitely still #blessed. “Ah, then you should try syrniki sometime then!”

 

Yuuri furrows his brows for a moment, then asks, “Okay, so what’s that, then?”

 

“Ah, it’s a Russian breakfast food. Cheese pancakes! I usually have them with jam, sour cream, and honey. They’re good with fresh fruit too! Or compote, when I have time to make it. They taste _amazing_.”

 

“Not gonna lie, they _do_ sound pretty amazing.”

 

“Right? They’re pancakes, made better. You should try it. I’ll make some for you sometime!”

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Yuuri says, his voice unusually small, and the conversation lulls. Then he licks his lips and speaks up again. “Well, a friend of mine taught me how to make poffertjes once. But then I figured I might as well make the full-sized thing, or get a box of mini pancakes from the grocery. It tasted nice though. Had butter and powdered sugar.”

 

“We’re actually having a conversation about pancakes,” Viktor declares. “This is the first time I’ve ever had, like, a _legit_ grown-up conversation about the many variations of pancakes. This isn’t how I expected my night to go, but I like it!”

 

Yuuri laughs, and smiles at him in amusement. Then he suddenly sits up and points somewhere ahead them. “Wait! Sorry, there it is.”

 

Viktor nearly slams into the brakes out of habit, but somehow manages to gradually slow down and use his brake-lights, like a decent person. He switches his turn signal to the right and pulls into the small open parking lot in front of the 24-hour diner.

 

“What about your car?” Yuuri asks, glancing at the backseat. “Is it safe to just leave your car here?”

 

“Worry not, my dear Yuuri, this is a convertible!” Viktor declares, and with the press of a button, the black hard-top of the boisterously pink convertible starts to stretch over the Cadillac. He rolls the windows up too, and they get out of the car. He makes his way over to Yuuri’s side and holds his arm out. Yuuri’s hand twitches, and he hesitates for a moment, but he eventually wraps his arm around the crook of Viktor’s elbow and slowly make their way to the diner.

 

“We probably look so weird right now,” Yuuri says, eyes downcast. Then his eyes widen to the size of saucers and he hastily backtracks. “Ah, I mean, not _you_ , of course! You— well, _you_ look amazing, as always—”

 

_‘As always_ ’, hmm, Yuuri? Viktor couldn’t help but grin at this, a light flush of red finding itself on the tops of his cheeks.

 

“While I— I’m in a _romper_ , of all things. And I have makeup on. _And_ I’m wearing your coat, and I probably look like a trainwreck right now.”

 

Viktor stops dead in his tracks, and Yuuri follows suit, a surprised expression on his face.

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, voice low as he brings a hand up to cup Yuuri’s cheek. He can feel Yuuri stiffening under his touch and tries not to let it affect him. “Of course you don’t look like a trainwreck! You look absolutely _stunning_ right now. Even if you did look like a mess— which you don’t— you’d be _my_ beautiful mess, alright?”

 

Yuuri gulps, and Viktor runs his thumb over Yuuri’s bottom lip, partially chapped due to the prolonged wear of the liquid lipstick. He can feel Yuuri’s warm breath over the tip of his finger and it effectively derails any coherent train of thought Viktor might’ve had in that moment. He watches with eyes half-mast as Yuuri subtly leans into his touch, parting his lips just the slightest bit.

 

“Okay,” Yuuri breathes out, his pupils dilating as Viktor subtly stepped closer and leaned in. Before he could get too close, Yuuri abruptly turned away, Viktor’s hold on his cheek loosening in the process. He watches in bemusement as Yuuri stares at his feet. “We should probably go eat now.”

 

Viktor slowly nods. “Okay.”

 

They enter the diner together, Viktor’s hand on the small of Yuuri’s back. Christopher Cross is softly playing in the background from a jukebox tucked into one corner of the room, and the diner itself looks like it came straight out of the fifties, linoleum floors, red leather seats, and white tabletops. Yuuri leads him to a booth next to the window, with a clear view of the parking lot and the main road bordering it. Viktor does his best to take everything in because _this_ is the place Yuuri likes to go to after his shows, so it _must_ be good. Yuuri reaches for the menus tucked to one side of the table and hands one over to Viktor, who takes it and thumbs through the laminated pages.

 

Viktor glances around and spots several other people eating in the diner. Some are eating alone, while others are in groups, dressed in clothing meant for clubbing and occasionally cutting through the music with bouts of raucous laughter.

 

A brunette waitress sees them and makes her way over from the cashier, her hair pinned up in a neat bun.

 

“Hey, Yuuri,” the waitress says, taking out a well-worn notepad and a pen. ‘Amy’, her name tag reads.

 

“Hi Amy,” Yuuri greets. “Sorry, Phichit isn’t here today.”

 

She looks over the notepad and takes a quick glance-over at Viktor before smirking at the Japanese man. “Oh, who’s _this_?”

 

Viktor, glances up from his menu, smiles at her. “Hi. I’m Viktor.”

 

Amy uses the notepad to cover her mouth from Viktor’s sight, whispering quite audibly, “ _Nice catch, Yuuri_!”

 

Yuuri flushes red and buries his face in his hands.

 

“You want the usual, then?” Amy asks, in a normal speaking voice this time. Yuuri nods, then she turns to Viktor. “You?”

 

Viktor closes the menu and sets it down on the table. “I’ll have whatever he’s having!”

 

In an instant, Yuuri tears his hands away from his face and pales. “Viktor, _no_ —”

 

* * *

“Interesting!” Viktor chirps, taking a photo of his plate so he could update his Instagram. (‘ **Dinner with him ❤️ #blessed** ’, he captions it, followed by a dozen heart-eyes emojis) “So _this_ is what you meant by creative freedom, yes?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri all but chokes out for the umpteenth time, face flushed a permanent shade of red out of pure embarrassment. Amy sets Yuuri’s plate in front of him, a tidy stack of chocolate chip pancakes. There was a chocolate syrup smiley face on it with a chunk of butter as a nose, banana slices as eyes, and it had a tuft of whipped cream hair.

 

“No, no,” Viktor is quick to interject, unable to keep the smile from stretching wide across his face. He is downright _smitten_ with this man. “It’s adorable! So cute! And it’s your favourite, so I know I’ll love it! I already do!”

 

It’s taking everything in him to _not_ tackle Yuuri into a hug and pepper his face with kisses. He can literally feel his soul being cleansed now that he knew Yuuri ordered pancakes off the Kids’ Menu. So _precious_. So _pure_. He kinda just wants to cry— happy tears, of course.

 

“Don’t judge me, okay?” Yuuri says, voice small as he digs into his pancakes and begins slicing them into bite-size pieces before shoving each forkful into his mouth.

 

Viktor lets out a lovestruck sigh at the sight, unable to focus on his own food when Yuuri was in front of him. “Oh, _zvyozdochka_ , never.”

 

“Maybe,” Yuuri drawls, staring at Viktor’s mainly untouched plate. “ _Maybe_ if you tried them too, you’d understand why.”

 

Viktor leans over the table, a playful smile on his face. “Will you feed me, Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri’s face flushes red once more, and Viktor laughs. But when Yuuri raises a fork up with pancake on it towards him, it’s _Viktor’s_ turn this time to blush a vibrant scarlet, his eyes widening in pleasant surprise. He beams before leaning in closer and opening his mouth. Just as he’s about to take a bite, Yuuri quickly redirects it back to himself and eats it instead. Viktor’s expression visibly falls from ‘moony’ to ‘broken-hearted’, and it’s so jarringly obvious, Yuuri bursts out into laugher.

 

“Yuuri!” Viktor whines, pouting at him, despite the infectious laughter curling up the edges of his mouth. “ _Rude_. I never knew you were such a meanie.”

 

Yuuri quickly constructs another forkful in the midst of bouts of laughter and raises it up towards Viktor’s lips again, who eyes the fork with mock suspicion. “This is going to be another trick,” Viktor says, and Yuuri vehemently shakes his head.

 

“No, no, no! For real this time,” Yuuri insists, “I’m not kidding!”

 

Viktor squints at him, but leans in once more nonetheless, parting his lips. The laughter gradually dies down as Viktor takes a bite, mouth closing around the forkful of pancakes as he reaches up and takes hold of the hand Yuuri’s using to feed him. He slowly pulls back and chews, taking in the flavours swirling on his tongue until he realises that this fork had _just_ been in Yuuri’s mouth. He tentatively lets go of Yuuri’s hand, his heart skipping a beat. After he finishes chewing (and it’s a miracle he doesn’t start choking right then and there), he finally speaks. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

 

Yuuri pulls his hand back, a satisfied expression on his face. “Right? I know my pancakes.”

 

Viktor chuckles. “That you do, _kotyonok_ , that you do. Let’s see if my syrniki can give this a run for its money, hm? I’m sure I can put up a good fight.”

 

“We’ll see,” Yuuri says, before gesturing to Viktor’s plate. “Now eat.”

 

They continue making smalltalk, quickly finishing up the rest of their pancakes, and even though Yuuri insists on at least splitting the bill, Viktor pays for the both of their meals— it’s a date, after all, and it’s sort of bad enough Viktor didn’t really plan ahead for their _first date_ of all things. But no matter. He’d make it up to Yuuri again soon.

 

When they exit the diner, it’s much later and there aren’t as many cars on the road anymore. Viktor feels absolutely euphoric, riding high on the laughs he’s shared with Yuuri. He’s never felt so happy, so _alive_. Honestly, he hasn’t felt this way in a really long time. He looks at Yuuri and his heart _aches_ , affection spreading like a bloom throughout his chest. His jaw is starting to hurt from laughing and smiling so much, but he finds that he doesn’t particularly mind— not in the slightest bit.

 

They get into the Cadillac, and as Yuuri strapped in his seatbelt, Viktor retracted the convertible’s rooftop and rolled the windows back down. He slings his arm over the seat, looping all the way around Yuuri’s shoulders.

 

“Where to next, _kotyonok_?” Viktor asks, beaming at him. He’s ready to drive just about _anywhere_. Absolutely _anywhere_ at all.

 

Yuuri pauses, tilting his head to the side as he thinks. Viktor eyes the exposed skin of Yuuri’s neck and feels tempted to lean in and lick a trail up to his jaw, biting and sucking in between kisses. When Yuuri turns to Viktor, the latter snaps out of his thoughts, feeling slightly dazed. “Take me to the beach.”

 

Viktor smiles at him tenderly, pulling away so he could turn the ignition on. “Alright.”

 

Once they’re back on the main road, Viktor turns the stereo on and lively music from the Billboard Top 100 starts playing on the speakers. He taps his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat, and when he looks at Yuuri’s reflection in the rearview mirror, he sees him nodding his head along to the music. He can’t help but beam, casting another quick glance at Yuuri before turning his attention to the road.

 

“I’m having a lot of fun so far,” he says loudly, over the sound of the music.

 

Yuuri stares at him for a moment, expression undecipherable, then smiles. “I’m glad.”

 

The beach was _way_ on the other side of the city, and if they wanted to actually get there tonight, he’d have to take the highway. But for most part, Viktor didn’t actually _mind_ having to drive a long distance if it meant he got to spend more time with Yuuri.

 

They sit in a comfortable silence for a while, just mellowing out and listening to music, and enjoying each others’ company. With the easy drive, Viktor’s comfortable enough to leave one hand on the steering wheel, draping his arm over the back of the seat again, hand brushing against Yuuri’s shoulder. Every once in a while, he and Yuuri would look at each other, goofy smiles on both of their faces, and cheeks lightly flushed.

 

When they reach the tollway entry leading to the expressway, Viktor retracts his arm to pay for the toll. He shoves his wallet into one of the compartments near the stereo after collecting his change, and as he pulls his hand away, it brushes against Yuuri’s hand. His breath hitches in his throat at the contact, and even under the warm cast of the streetlights, or perhaps especially so, when he looks at Yuuri, the latter’s eyes are already on him, his cheeks a bright red. Yuuri smiles timidly and reaches for Viktor’s hand, giving him a look as if to say, ‘Is this okay?’

 

Viktor isn’t entirely aware of it, but he nods, and Yuuri laces their fingers together. Unable to resist the urge when it comes to him, he brings their clasped hands together up to his lips and he kisses the back of Yuuri’s hand, letting go for a moment to switch gears and drive. He wastes no time in holding Yuuri’s hand again, squeezing, and Yuuri’s grip on his hand is more firm; sure.

 

When he sees that the highway is near empty, he sees the opportunity and he squeezes Yuuri’s hand again, grinning. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

 

Yuuri turns back to look at the road and glances back at him, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes. “ _Do it_.”

 

Without so much as a warning, Viktor effortlessly speeds up, his Cadillac letting out a thundering roar before evening out to a decrescendo purr. Their hair is whipping all around them, and just driving with Yuuri like this might be the most fun he’s ever had in a long time. Viktor lets out a loud whoop, muted by the blowing wind, and to his surprise, Yuuri lets out a yell of his own.

 

For _some_ reason, it evolved into a screaming match between the two of them— quite literally, actually, in which they’d take turns shouting at the top of their lungs, over the sound of the thumping music and howling wind and the rev of the car itself. What probably takes the cake is that they’re both fully-grown men— Viktor himself only two years away from hitting that big three-oh.

 

At one point, though, they both stop and just take a few minutes to catch their breaths, throats undoubtedly raw from all the mindless screaming they just did. This _definitely_ isn’t how Viktor expected his night to go, but it was _so fun_. He has zero regrets throwing caution to the wind like this and losing himself in momentary reckless abandon. After that, they smile each other, laughing, and for the umpteenth time that night, Viktor’s heart aches and skips a beat.

 

He _loves_ Yuuri’s laugh. He wants to keep on making Yuuri laugh like that, smile like that, look at him like that. Viktor is, without the shadow of a doubt, absolutely _smitten_ with Yuuri.

 

It might be too soon to say it’s love, but it’s well on its way there.

 

* * *

 

Even though Viktor would’ve been perfectly content for the ride to go on long into the night and until the sun came up, they couldn’t stay on the expressway _forever_. It was inevitable they’d have to exit the highway at some point.

 

As Viktor eases the pink Cadillac along a winding path cut off from the highway, he gradually slows down the speed to a safer pace now that they were in the city again, much more near the beach. He can smell the sea salt in the air, and beside him, Yuuri is taking in deep breaths and practically drinking the air in. He’s sitting up straight now, increasingly attentive and awake, and he’s taking in the sights of the city.

 

This beach was in a sleepier part of town, and since it was more or less midnight, the streets were empty, illuminated by the streetlights occupying the edges of the sidewalks on either side of the road. The air was cool, though a bit humid. There was another beach next to this one though, in another part of the city, where it was bustling with activity late into the night. It was a tourist hotspot of sorts, and it was the beach Viktor usually went to with friends. There was a boardwalk where they could take walks along the shore, and a funfair near it. He resolved to take Yuuri to the funfair there next time.

 

Yuuri shifted in his seat and ensconced himself further in the plush white leather, bringing their clasped hands to rest on his thigh. He let out a sigh, a small smile on his face.

 

“Haven’t gone to the beach in a while?” Viktor asks, and Yuuri’s expression turns sheepish. He gives a nonchalant shrug.

 

“I haven’t had the time.”

 

Viktor nods in understanding. “Yeah, me neither.”

 

Up until very recently, he hasn’t had the time either. He was always so _busy_ with filming. Being an in-demand VIP™ took up most of his time— more than he’d like to admit. And when he wasn’t filming, he was either camming or busying himself with memorising scripts. Some films could take three days or up ’til two weeks to film. During whatever free time he had, he would either catch up on his much-needed rest, go to the gym, attend various appointments needed to keep up his appearance, or spend it with Makkachin.

 

Now that his schedule is a lot more freer, he feels like he can breathe easier. So far in his life, he’s had no deep regrets about working in the adult film industry for about a decade now— leagues longer than the average pornstar— but after a while, it had become suffocating. At least he’s got more time now— time to do things he hadn’t had the time for before; time to _think_ and to put things in perspective. Wake up and smell the roses, and all.

 

He’s finally brought out of his thoughts when he realises they’re nearly at the end of the road, leading to an intersection with another road bordering the beach. He glances at Yuuri, and Yuuri meets his gaze with a smile.

 

“So we’re finally here,” Viktor says, slowing the speed down once more to leisurely cruise. “Should we park somewhere so we can walk or do you just want to drive around?”

 

Yuuri hums in thought before answering. “Ah, well, there’s a parking lot nearby. It’s on the other end of the beach. It used to be a dock, I think, but now it’s a pier.”

 

“Alright,” says Viktor, squeezing Yuuri’s hand just because. “You used to go here often?”

 

After a beat, Yuuri speaks up. “Yeah. I used to. Especially when I first moved here.”

 

“Oh? Where’d you originally come from?”

 

“Technically, Detroit. I studied there for a year, but it didn’t work out for me, so I decided to transfer to a university here. But originally, I come from Hasetsu, Japan. It’s a small castle town by the sea, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you haven’t heard of it. My family still lives there. The beach here reminds me of home, so I used to go here a lot.”

 

Viktor hums, taking it in. “I guess we’re not too different in that aspect then. I grew up in St. Petersburg, and the one thing I found comfort in when I moved here was the beach. The sound of seagulls, of all things.”

 

Yuuri moves in his seat once more, turning to face him. “When did you move here then?”

 

Viktor frowns slightly as he computes the math in his head. “Not _that_ long. Around six, seven years? I worked in Russia for a while, but then I moved,” a pause as Viktor clenches the steering wheel slightly. “For, ah, _occupational_ reasons.”

 

A silence falls over them as Viktor waits for Yuuri to go ahead and ask him what he does for a living. He waits for it, and anticipates the worst, but to his surprise, Yuuri doesn’t bring it up. Instead, he leans forward and points to a pier jutting out into the ocean, and Viktor diligently makes a right-hand turn and drives into the open lot. He parks at the very front of the pier and sets the gear to ‘park’ before shutting the ignition off.

 

They stay silent for a while, just looking at the vast ocean. It’s a beautiful sight, the moon high in the sky and reflecting off the dark waters. In the distance, there’s a barely visible strip of land that juts out into the water, a lighthouse at the very end of its tip.

 

A gust of wind breezes by, and out of the corner of his eye, Viktor can see Yuuri shivering, wrapping the suit jacket tighter around himself. He turns to face him and pats the empty spot in between them. “Sit closer?”

 

As if to emphasise his words, he unclips his seatbelt and scoots closer to Yuuri. The latter only stares at him for a moment before undoing his seatbelt as well. “Sure.”

 

He sidles closer to him and Viktor raises his arm as Yuuri’s body presses up against his. Viktor brings his arm down and drapes it around Yuuri’s shoulders, rubbing soothing circles onto his shoulder with his thumb. He’s sorely tempted to lean down and kiss Yuuri’s forehead, but he decides against it in favour of subtly nuzzling his hair, snuggling closer into him. Yuuri’s arm wriggles behind his back and wraps itself firmly around Viktor’s waist. Viktor’s absolutely elated, and a content sigh leaves his lips.

 

“I’m happy you said yes to going out with me tonight,” Viktor says honestly.

 

Yuuri moves even closer to him, resting on Viktor’s torso slightly. “I am too.”

 

Another gust of wind blows, and Viktor can literally _feel_ Yuuri shivering. “Are you feeling cold, _solnyshko_?” Viktor asks, pulling away slightly so he could look at the other man. Not for the first time, he scolds himself for the lack of foresight— he should’ve brought a blanket. He’ll be sure to bring one next time.

 

Yuuri, flustered, glances down at his lap. “Rompers weren’t exactly made to withstand cold weather.”

 

Viktor smirks, seeing the opening right then and there. “Then how about we warm each other up, Yuuri? I’m sure I can think of a couple ways we can raise the temperature here.”

 

Yuuri looks at him disbelievingly before letting out a breathless chuckle. “ _Wow_.”

 

“I’m only half-kidding,” Viktor deadpans, and Yuuri’s chuckle turns into a laugh, lightly slapping Viktor’s knee.

 

“Viktor!” He chastises, but the corner of his lips are curling up into a smile.

 

Viktor’s heart absolutely flutters at the sight. In response, he wraps his arm tighter around Yuuri and laughs as well, unable to keep the lovestruck grin from spreading across his face. He leans in closer, nosing Yuuri’s cheek, and Yuuri gasps, the air between them changing entirely. Viktor reaches for Yuuri’s free hand and brushes his lips against his knuckles, blue eyes darkening with desire. He presses chaste, tender kisses to Yuuri’s open palm, all the way to the tips of his calloused fingers, those hands strong enough to keep him upright on that pole for extended periods of time.

 

“You’re gorgeous, Yuuri,” Viktor says, voice low. “Do you know that?”

 

Yuuri’s breath hitches and as he turns to face Viktor, even under the sparse lighting, Viktor can see that the tops of Yuuri’s cheeks have turned red. Yuuri opens his mouth, then closes it again, unable to come up with an immediate response. But never mind that— Viktor’s more than willing to do his share of the talking. Preferably with their bodies.

 

He watches as Yuuri twists around in his seat to face him properly, pupils blown wide with mutual want. Viktor does the same and wraps an arm around Yuuri’s neck, leaning down to nose at the other man’s jaw. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, “So, so perfect.”

 

Yuuri lets out a low exhale and arches his neck to give Viktor better access to his skin. Viktor runs his other hand up and down Yuuri’s side, along his bare legs, cold from the night air. He pauses when he feels Yuuri flinch the moment Viktor brushes his hand against the top of his thigh, fingering at the hem of his romper’s shorts, but continues his ministrations when Yuuri visibly relaxes into his touch.

 

Eyes hooded, Viktor’s tongue darts out to lick at the junction between the line of Yuuri’s shoulder and the base of his neck, tasting him. A low noise leaves Yuuri’s lips as he arches his back into Viktor’s touch, pressing his body up against his. Viktor starts with small kisses, trailing from Yuuri’s jaw, all the way down to his throat, before sucking at a spot near his clavicle.

 

Yuuri couldn’t help but moan softly as his breathing grew more deeper, more ragged, and he’s clinging to Viktor’s dress shirt like a lifeline. Twinges of a familiar pleasure are bubbling in the pit of his stomach, going straight to Viktor’s cock, and his body is already reacting to the way Yuuri’s body is pressed flush against his. He dips his hand down in between Yuuri’s legs, gradually moving up along his inner thighs.

 

He pulls away after leaving a mark on him, a string of saliva connected to Yuuri’s skin, and rests his forehead against Yuuri’s shoulder. After a moment, he sits up and cups Yuuri’s cheek, both of their eyes trained on each others’ lips. As if their bodies are moving in sync, they both lean in for the kiss and—

 

_Ding!_

 

A text notification brings them out of their haze, and Yuuri pulls away to look at the outline of his phone in his pocket.

 

“Never mind that, _kotyonok_ ,” Viktor murmurs, stroking Yuuri’s bottom lip and trying to lean in and kiss him.

 

“Ah, sorry,” Yuuri says, expression apologetic. “It might be important. It’ll only take a second.”

 

Viktor stares at him incredulously for a moment before relenting, leaning back against the seat of the car as he tries to catch his breath. Yuuri unzips his pocket and pulls his phone out. Something— _something_ — changes in Yuuri’s expression, and in that moment, Viktor _knows_ that something is wrong.

 

Yuuri’s expression visibly falls, his eyes going flat as he stares at his screen. Without entirely realising what he was doing, Viktor automatically glances at Yuuri’s phone, blue eyes skittering over the page. It’s a text from an unknown number, and the moment the words start to register in his mind, Viktor feels sick to his stomach.

 

 

> **Unknown  
>  ** **Eros. If you want to have some fun and have an arrangement, call me. [gift emoji][winking emoji]**

 

Visibly upset, Yuuri unlocks his phone and blocks the contact right then and there. Not even one minute later, a notification from PayPal comes up, the banner at the top of the page notifying him of a deposit made to his account. He immediately shuts his phone screen off and tosses it to the side, his expression blank.

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, tone even, just to test the waters.

 

Instantly, Yuuri turns to look at him, eyes wide and his movements skittish. Viktor didn’t know what to make of it at first, but after what he’s seen, he’s put two and two together and he thinks Yuuri _may_ have just rejected a POT. He tentatively rests his hand on Yuuri’s back and tries not to wince when Yuuri flinches at the contact.

 

“Are you okay?” He asks. Yuuri avoids looking at him, and for some reason, it _hurt_.

 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” says Yuuri, “I— I never entertain those types of messages. I hope you know that.”

 

Viktor nods, but when he leans in closer to him again, the moment is lost. He still won’t look Viktor in the eye.

 

“Okay,” Viktor says, because what else _can_ he say? He feels _confused_ and _helpless_ when Yuuri is starting to distance himself like this. Like, he may be here, yeah, but his mind is already in a faraway place, and Viktor would like nothing more but to bring him out of that— well, not even a _reverie_ , but a trance.

 

He immediately tries to rack his mind for different means of distraction. He doesn’t know what to do when the light in Yuuri’s eyes is suddenly gone. He brings his hand up from Yuuri’s back and raises it up to cup the other man’s nape, gently stroking Yuuri’s soft hair in what he hoped to be a soothing gesture. To his surprise, Yuuri leans in and hugs him, arms firmly wrapped around Viktor’s torso. Without missing a beat, Viktor returns the embrace, sitting back so Yuuri could lean on his chest.

 

They stay like that for a while, just listening to the sound of the ocean, the waves crashing and rolling onto the shore. As Viktor stares out at the vacuity before him, the moonlit sky being the only thing to give the ocean its depth, he feels a rush of overwhelming emotion so strong, he can barely comprehend it himself. His heart is beating hard against his chest, and he wonders if Yuuri can hear his heartbeat. He has never felt this strongly for another person before— one he’s only recently met at that— and he wants him so bad it _hurts_.

 

If Yuuri really gave him a chance, Viktor could see himself being in _this_ , a relationship with him, in the long run.

 

* * *

They’d both dozed off at some point. It started when Yuuri had fallen asleep in his arms, and in turn, Viktor had eventually nodded off as well. It wasn’t advisable at all since they were out in the open, Cadillac and all, but luckily, when Viktor came to, they were still very much alone in the pier. It was definitely morning now, the starry night sky fading into hues of purple, orange, and pink, the incoming dawn greeting them over the horizon.

 

He carefully adjusts his grip on the still-sleeping Yuuri, discreetly reaching for his phone so he could check the time. It was already nearing five AM. He scrolls through the notifications that have accumulated on his phone’s screen, almost all of them coming from Christophe. Ah, well. He’d get to him later. But for now…

 

“Yuuri,” he says, voice still laced with the last vestiges of sleep, gently trying to rouse Yuuri awake. It takes him a while, but eventually Yuuri does wake up, glancing up at Viktor. It’s such a beautiful sight, Viktor can’t help but smile. “Good morning.”

 

Yuuri scrunches his face up at him, confused, but mumbles a ‘good morning’ nonetheless. He pulls away, dazed, glancing at the ocean. “Oh yeah. It’s morning now.”

 

Viktor presses a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead. “Let’s watch the sunrise together, _solnyshko_.”

 

Yuuri nods absently before his face scrunches up in realisation. “I fell asleep with makeup on.”

 

He reaches for his bag, somewhere along the backseat of Viktor’s car with the box of blue roses, and pulls out a packet of makeup remover wipes. He peels it open and pulls one out, tiredly rubbing at his face. Viktor smiles at the sight.

 

“Need some help with that?” Viktor asks, automatically reaching for another wipe and getting a head start by removing the foundation along Yuuri’s t-zone.

 

Yuuri’s eyes widen, and he suddenly looks much more awake. “A-Ah! No,” he stammers, quickly turning his face away. “You _really_ don’t need to do that. I can do it myself. And, ah, I’m sorry I fell asleep on you. Literally on you.”

 

Viktor lets out a light laugh, gently cupping Yuuri’s cheek so he could turn his head to face him again. “I don’t mind, Yuuri.” As his hand slides downward to cup his neck, he sees the mark he’d left on Yuuri earlier in that haze of desire, somewhere along his collarbone, partially hidden by his romper. It had bloomed into a purplish red and his eyes darken at the sight, finally taking in just how _dishevelled_ Yuuri looks, even though they hadn’t done anything particularly heavy (and Viktor _knows_ heavy).

 

If he’s absolutely _gorgeous_ like this, then Viktor wants to know just how _breathtaking_ Yuuri would look like in the aftermath of overwhelming passion, losing themselves in each other long into the night. As if Yuuri had read his train of thought (and it probably wasn’t that hard; Viktor’s arousal around him showed like an open book), he jolted and clapped a hand over his neck, flushing a very deep red. When Yuuri bites his full bottom-lip, Viktor follows the movement more intensely than he should, before finally going back to wiping Yuuri’s face.

 

They sit in silence for a while, busying themselves with trying to remove all traces of Yuuri’s makeup. When Yuuri is barefaced again, Viktor leans in to press a chaste kiss to his forehead, still slightly damp with makeup remover. Yuuri relaxes into the kiss and Viktor lets out a content sigh, wrapping his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders so he could pull him in again.

 

Together, they watch as the sunrise comes up, beams of light peeking over the horizon. It’s a beautiful picture, made even more special because of Yuuri being with him right now, experiencing this. He chances a peek at the Japanese man sitting beside him and his heart absolutely _melts_ at the warmth in Yuuri’s eyes, as tired as they looked. Unable to restrain himself, he quickly leaned in and kissed Yuuri’s head, squeezing his shoulder for a moment before loosening his grip again.

 

Yuuri turns to look at him for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face, one Viktor’s seen before but for the life of him, just couldn’t _decipher_ , but he tries to move that thought out of his mind when Yuuri rests his head on Viktor’s shoulder.

 

Whatever Yuuri’s thinking— and Viktor _knows_ Yuuri is thinking, because he can practically hear the gears whirring around in Yuuri’s mind from beside him— Viktor will let him work it out on his own, then when Yuuri is willing to open up to him, he’ll meet him halfway and listen to what he has to say.

 

They cuddle there for a while, Viktor occasionally nuzzling Yuuri’s face and kissing his cheek, but when the sun is finally up and this part of the city is starting to rouse, he figures it’s about time they head home.

  
_Ah._

 

Well.

 

He’ll drive Yuuri to _his_ home, then he’ll go back to his. Of course.

* * *

 

The ride home— the ride _back_ , rather— is oddly quiet. Sure, Yuuri still let him hold his hand, but aside from talk of what drive-through to get food from and where Yuuri lived, Yuuri stayed silent, seemingly lost in his thoughts as he stared out at the passing scenery.

 

There’s this sort of disconnect that’s happened between them, and Viktor doesn’t exactly know _what_ he did wrong, or if he did anything wrong in the first place, let alone _how_ to rectify the situation back to what it was last night, when they were _happy_ and having fun. But there’s this sort of niggling feeling Viktor has that the text Yuuri received last night might have had something to do with it.

 

What if whoever texted him wasn’t even a POT, but someone who had an actual presence in Yuuri’s life? What if that person was someone _important_ to him? But why would they even text him like that if they cared about him? Why did Yuuri block them without so much as a forethought?

 

There was still so much he didn’t know about the man sitting to his right. Even though they’ve shared laughs, made new memories the night before, they really had only just met very recently, and it wasn’t long enough for Viktor to even begin to _fathom_ this enigma of a man. It was as if he could only see what Yuuri _let_ him see, especially now that Yuuri’s being so closed-off like this.

 

Viktor takes a deep breath and pulls his hand away from Yuuri’s just to turn the stereo on. A cheerful jingle starts to play, and a DJ host speaks in a smooth baritone, filling the radio silence between them.

 

To his surprise, it’s Yuuri who timidly reaches for his hand this time. Viktor feels some of the tension leave his shoulders, and before he can even think about it, he brings Yuuri’s hand up to his lips and kisses the back of his hand.

 

* * *

It’s about half-past seven in the morning when a pink Cadillac finally rolls to a halt in front of a small Victorian-style townhouse, panelling painted a muted olive green and obviously kept in good condition. Yuuri and Phichit live in a relatively well-off neighbourhood, and according to Yuuri, it isn’t too far from where Phichit studies as a cinematography major, with specialisation in film history.

 

“So I guess this is it,” Viktor says, putting the car in park so he could help Yuuri with his things. He lifts Yuuri’s bag over to the front seat and reaches for the box of roses.

 

“I guess so,” Yuuri replies, though his voice is faint. He slings his bag over one shoulder and cradles the box of roses in his arms. Then he turns to face Viktor, the apples of his cheeks turning a light red. “Thank you. For last night—”

 

“Yeah,” Viktor breathes out, entranced.

 

“— _and_ this morning.”

 

Viktor slings an arm over the steering wheel and leans in closer to him, a coquettish grin on his face. He doesn’t beat about the bush. “So when will I see you again?”

 

“Well,” Yuuri furrows his brows. “We _do_ have another lesson tomorrow, right?”

 

“We do,” Viktor says, his smile faltering just a fraction. _But that’s not what I meant!_

 

“So I guess I’ll see you then,” Yuuri says as he unclips his seatbelt, _completely oblivious_ to Viktor’s internal suffering. But before he can open the door and exit the car, Viktor reaches out and grabs Yuuri’s wrist, the action only registering in his mind now that he’s done it.

 

Yuuri turns to look at him in surprise, but doesn’t pull his hand back. “Viktor?”

 

Viktor pouts at him, sliding his hand up to cup Yuuri’s cheek. “What if I told you that I miss you already?”

 

“ _Oh_. Well.” Yuuri’s eyes are as big as saucers, and Viktor can practically _feel_ Yuuri blush against the palm of his hand. He clears his throat, “W-What do you want me to do, then?”

 

Viktor leans forward and brushes his thumb against Yuuri’s bottom lip, eyes half-mast. Yuuri isn’t entirely aware of it, but he leans in closer as well. “Send me off with a goodbye kiss, Yuuri?”

 

Viktor can _literally_ feel his heartbeat pounding against his chest, blood rushing through his ears, when Yuuri downright fucking _smirks_ against his lips and his tongue darts out to brush against the pad of Viktor’s thumb. What a beautiful little _minx_. He doesn’t bother holding back the groan from escaping his lips. _So perfect, Yuuri._

 

Yuuri leans in and presses his lips against Viktor’s in an open-mouthed kiss, Viktor groaning once more when Yuuri’s tongue darts out to brush against his. Unable to get enough of the sensation, Viktor deepens the kiss and licks into Yuuri’s mouth, hot and wet and absolutely _mind-blowing_. But before their kisses can grow any more heated, Yuuri pulls away, tugging at Viktor’s bottom lip in-between his teeth as he does so.

 

Without missing another beat, Yuuri gets out of the car and smiles blithely at him. “Thanks again for everything. Don’t miss me too much.”

 

And when Yuuri turns around to head up to the front door of his house, Viktor is #blessed and greeted with the sight of Yuuri’s Amazing™ ass in his romper, pert and round. With each step he took, his ass would bounce in reverse gravity, the fabric of his romphim sucking into the crease between his ass cheeks and his thighs. He belatedly realises Yuuri still has his jacket on, but chooses not to tell him right then and there.

 

There’s always next time, after all. And after the wild night he’s had (though not wild in the way that you’d expect from a pornstar), there definitely _will_ be a next time.

 

* * *

 

 

 

> Vitya @v-nikiforov ✔︎
> 
> Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave [heart eyes emoji]
> 
> Vitya @v-nikiforov ✔︎
> 
> [several lines of different heart emojis]
> 
>  
> 
> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS
> 
>  
> 
> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> GUESS WHO JUST GOT THE FUCK BACK HOME
> 
>  
> 
> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> @katsukidon WOW
> 
>  
> 
> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> I spent all this time??? WORRYING FOR NOTHING????? @katsukidon
> 
>  
> 
> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> @katsukidon I AM SHOOK. IS THAT??? A HICKEY??!??!?!?
> 
>  
> 
> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> I’M STILL GONNA BE THE MF WEDDING PLANNER Y’ALL
> 
>  
> 
> ya boy Phichit @phichit+chu
> 
> Maybe I’ll meet the love of my life too lmao on the pristine beaches of Honolulu, Hawaii [tropical tree emoji][sun emoji][bikini emoji]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POT - n. (pē-oh-tē) A potential Sugar Daddy.
> 
> Henlo! The almost-kiss scene got more intimate than I originally planned. OTL Then I added a kiss at the end anyway bc I'm self-indulgent as fuck lmao. OTL Almost added a semi-public handjob there too bc I kept on thinking about Viktor unzipping the crotch zipper of Yuuri’s romphim and pulling his dick out to stroke it while they made out under the night sky lol but i managed to restrain myself
> 
> ANYWAYS—
> 
> check out this ABSOLUTELY AMAZING fan art [@bullsfish](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bullsfish/pseuds/Bullsfish) made for me of crop top!Yuuri [here](https://bullsfish.tumblr.com/post/160912293319/victor-is-thirsty-af-for-yuuri-sex-on-legs-katsuki)!! :D AND HE’S WEARING RIPPED JEANS
> 
> hoomahgawd im weak,, /clutches chest
> 
> send me smut prompts and suggestions so i can practise for the 30+ sex scenes i have planned for this fic huehue
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://ragdollyouth.tumblr.com/)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/katsukidon_)


	9. nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title: Thirst™
> 
> Yuuri is hot, so unbearably hot, and Viktor is distracted.
> 
> “I don’t think I can survive the whole practise watching you dance without being able to kiss you.”
> 
> There’s a mischievous glint in Yuuri’s eyes as he leans up to brush their lips together, just barely touching. “Then _leave_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls keep work skin on haha,,

Viktor is hopelessly enamoured with Yuuri. Like, really, there was no saving him. Not that he’d want to be saved anyway, because _this_ in itself— watching Yuuri do their cool-down stretches— is already absolute bliss. He can't help but let out a lovestruck sigh, distractedly following the motions. As Yuuri finally finishes the last pose, he stands up straight and smiles at Viktor, letting out a deep breath. “And we’re done!”

 

Without missing a beat, Viktor leaps forward and tackles Yuuri into his arms, a grin on his face. “Finally!”

 

Yuuri laughs, patting Viktor’s back. The moment Viktor showed up for their morning lesson, Yuuri had been adamant on implementing a ‘No Touching’ rule lest they get nothing done, meeting Viktor’s whines for a straight ten minutes before Yuuri eventually bribed him with a kiss after their lesson if he did well and behaved. Of course, Viktor obsequiously agreed. Whether Yuuri knew it or not, he had Viktor wrapped around his pinky finger.

 

“I think you owe me a kiss, Yuuri,” says Viktor, blue eyes lighting up with mirth as he reaches a hand up to brush away a lock of sweaty hair from Yuuri’s face before cupping his chin.

 

Yuuri bites his bottom lip, trying to keep a smile from spreading across his face. He reaches a hand up to stroke Viktor’s cheek with his thumb. “Ah, I guess I do.”

 

Without any prompting, they both lean in for a kiss lasting for a few seconds. Viktor makes a move to deepen the kiss, but to his dismay, Yuuri pulls away and walks over to the stereo, still playing music, and picks his phone up, fingers tapping across the screen. Viktor’s half-tempted to give Yuuri’s bottom a playful slap, but decides against it because he might come across as too forward.

 

“So did you have a song in mind for a routine?” Yuuri asks, turning around to face him. “I think it’d be easier for you to learn the different moves if you did it straight through in a routine, but of course, I’ll still make sure you’re doing all of the moves properly.”

 

“I’m good with anything. I’ll do a routine then? Maybe I can seduce you with my moves,” Viktor chirps, a note of playfulness in his tone. He brushes his hand against Yuuri’s waist, bumping Yuuri’s hip with his. “Just like how you seduced me with yours.”

 

Yuuri looks at him with that same exasperated fondness again, and Viktor absolutely revels in the warmth of Yuuri’s eyes. “I’ll compose a routine for you, but you’ll have to help me pick out a song. I won’t make you do a routine to something you don’t like.”

 

“I don’t think I could ever dislike something you made for me.”

 

“Sure,” Yuuri says, sounding like he didn’t believe a word of what Viktor just said. “But look for songs you’d be interested in anyway.”

 

Viktor reaches for Yuuri’s free hand and presses a tender kiss to his knuckles. “Okay, okay. Have lunch with me, _solnyshko_?”

 

Yuuri blinks at him, looking flustered. “Ah. Lunch isn’t for another two hours though.”

 

“Then have brunch with me!” Viktor says easily, lacing their fingers together.

 

When Yuuri’s expression turns sheepish, Viktor feels a twinge of nervousness springing up in his chest. He squeezes Viktor’s hand back. “Sorry, I can’t. I’ll be busy with dance practise for the rest of the day.”

 

Viktor’s face falls. “Right. Yeah, I understand.”

 

Yuuri glances down at their intertwined hands and brings his phone down to his side. “Ah, well,” Yuuri fidgets, cheeks flushing a bright red. “Well— Um, you can watch? If you want?”

 

Viktor’s expression flips 180º and he pulls Yuuri into a tight hug. “Yuuri! Of course I’d love to watch you!” Then his gaze turns heated. “Will you give me a show, Yuuri?”

 

Something shifts in Yuuri’s gaze, something that makes Viktor feel like he’s done something wrong. It’s sort of a gut ‘oh shit’ feeling usually foreign to him, and right now, it’s really unsettling. Yuuri laughs, and instantly Viktor knows it’s fake because it sounds so _strained_. Shit. _Shit._ What did he do?

 

Did he do something wrong? Was it something he said? Was he too forward?

 

“Ahaha. Right.” Yuuri says, face devoid of laughter. The smile on his face looks more like a grimace, and seeing it feels like a punch to the gut.

 

Viktor gulps. “Yuuri?”

 

Upon hearing his name, Yuuri turns his head away as if he’d been slapped. He clears his throat and raises a hand to his mouth. “Sorry. But yeah, practise. We should go now.”

 

With that, he turns around and begins to tidy up the sound system, his hands visibly shaking. Viktor’s chest twists in confusion and hurt.

 

“Yuuri, did I do something wrong?” Viktor tries again, his voice soft. Yuuri tersely shakes his head ‘no’ before Viktor even gets to finish the sentence.

 

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” He answers curtly. The conversation ends then and there.

 

He waves off every one of Viktor’s attempts to help him, and within minutes, they’re out of the private practise room and making their way to the other side of the building. The brisk walk there is quiet all throughout, but Yuuri doesn’t pull away when Viktor tentatively reaches out to hold his hand. It’s enough to soothe the frayed edges of Viktor’s worry, somewhat.

 

It reminds him of what had happened between them the night they went to the beach, the way the light in Yuuri’s eyes had died the moment he saw those texts. Viktor still doesn’t understand it, and a part of him thinks that, maybe, he never will. And he doesn’t even _know_ if he’s close enough to Yuuri to ask him about it, even if they’d already kissed. Because that doesn’t mean Yuuri would automatically owe him answers or explanations to things Viktor wants to know. Viktor normally didn’t believe in labels, but hell, he felt the need for some sort of _validation_ that there was something concrete, something _legitimate_ between them somehow. That he wasn’t just imagining all of it in his head, finding silver linings where they weren’t.

 

But before Viktor can get into any of that, Yuuri leads him to a pair of metal double-doors at the end of the hall, and when Yuuri pushes them open, Viktor can feel the heavy bass of rap music thumping against his eardrums, reverberating in his chest. He glances around, taking the room in— spacious, roomy, with a lot of natural light flooding the room, reflecting against the mirrors that took up an entire wall. The walls were concrete, an industrial grey, and the floors a washed-out light oak.

 

In the middle of the room is a free-standing pole with a black stand, secured to the floor. Viktor notices that there are already people inside, some familiar faces he’s seen sharing the stage with Yuuri. They’re dancing to the music, movements fluid yet sharp, a rhythm in their footsteps as their sneakers stomp into the floor.

 

Yuuri tugs Viktor’s hand, leading them to the back of the room where they can set their bags down. When the music comes to an end, Yuuri introduces Viktor to his friends, who are in a dance crew that perform not only in Kachu’s, but in other clubs and venues around the city as well.

 

“So who’s this?” One of them asks, grinning at Yuuri.

 

Yuuri gently pushes Viktor to stand in front of him and gestures to him. “Leo, guys, meet Viktor.” He places his hand on Viktor’s shoulder, pointing his friends out to him individually. “Viktor, meet Leo, Seung-gil, Guang-hong, and Minami.”

 

Minami steps forward, an awestruck expression on his face as he openly gawks at Viktor. “Yuuri-kun! Is this the dreamboat Phichit-kun said you were talking about?!”

 

“He told you _what_?” Yuuri all but yelps, his eyes as big as saucers. “No wait, forget I said that.”

 

Viktor’s heart skips a beat as he turns to look at Yuuri, who’s walking away from the group entirely, and headed for a cluster of large paper bags set on a white folding table.

 

“Oh yeah, we got our costumes already,” Guang-hong says, quickly making his way over to Yuuri so he could fuss over them with him. “We still haven’t tried them on yet, but if there are additional changes that need to be made, I can call Giovanni and have him come here so we can make the adjustments.”

 

Guang-hong pulls a flimsy pile of black leather and spandex out and raises it up to Yuuri’s chest, who’s flushing bright red while he sends hesitant looks at Viktor. “Then again, it’s spandex and leather, so.” Guang-hong pulls away and carefully studies the stretch of the spandex before going through the same paper bag and pulling out a bullwhip. “Here’s your prop! Genuine leather. Giovanni knows best.”

 

In the background, Viktor _thinks_ he can hear Minami shrieking. _Same,_ he thinks to himself, many _suggestive_ thoughts tauntingly dancing through his head.

 

“Yeah, as for the other props, I already contacted Travis, and he said he’ll have them here by afternoon latest.” Leo adds, a thoughtful expression on his face.

 

“Sure, sure,” Yuuri mutters, shoving the whip back into its paper bag.

 

“We should do a dress rehearsal now that all of our costumes are here,” Seung-gil points out, arms crossed over his chest. “That way, if there are any problems with the costume, we can get them fixed as soon as possible.”

 

“Makes sense when our performance is already so soon,” Leo concurs, handing the black ‘GIOVANNI’ paper bags out to them.

 

“The competition’s already next week,” Minami adds, still staring at the flimsy cloth in Yuuri’s hands like it held the world’s secrets.

 

Yuuri bites his bottom lip, his expression oddly contemplative. “Right. Okay. My boots are still with Yuuko, so I’ll just go get them before I change. Do we change _now_?”

 

“Yeah,” Guang-hong says, heading for the door, “So we can practise already!”

 

Yuuri’s friends exit the room, leaving him and Viktor alone. He smiles at Viktor sheepishly. “Sorry. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

 

“Leaving me again so soon?” Viktor asks, pouting at him. “Let me guess: no kisses during practise either.”

 

Yuuri glances around, just to make sure it’s really just the both of them in the room. “I’ll give you one now and another one after. What about that?”

 

Viktor wraps his arm around Yuuri’s waist, pulling him in. “What about kisses in-between? Five-minute break kisses. Encouragement kisses. Good luck kisses.”

 

“Sounds like a lot of kisses,” says Yuuri, eyes on Viktor’s lips.

 

“Then maybe we should hurry up and kiss before everybody else comes back,” Viktor murmurs, their breaths mingling together. “I don’t think I can survive the whole practise watching you dance without being able to kiss you.”

 

There’s a mischievous glint in Yuuri’s eyes as he leans up to brush their lips together, just barely touching. “Then _leave_.”

 

Stunned into shock, Viktor pulls back and blinks owlishly at him. Yuuri giggle-snorts at the expression on Viktor’s face, and Viktor’s heart skips a beat just looking at him, just holding him in his arms, and it feels like his chest is being squeezed in the best possible way. He lets out a breathless laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”

 

Yuuri grins. “Yeah, I’m kidding.”

 

Viktor narrows his eyes at him, his expression hot. “You’re too cruel, _solnyshko_.”

 

Without so much as a warning, Viktor captures Yuuri’s lips with his, and in moments, Yuuri has his arms looped around Viktor’s neck, pressing back with equal fervour. Yuuri’s lips are warm, soft against his. After Viktor greeted him with a kiss that morning, he had slathered on a generous amount of Chanel lip balm on Yuuri’s lips, pupils blown with desire as he ran the tip of his finger along Yuuri’s plush, pouty lips.

 

He wants to kiss them red— a bright red— and he wants to kiss him ’til their lips are swollen and no amount of making excuses or playing it off can hide the fact that they’d _definitely_ kissed. Viktor deepens their osculations and Yuuri makes a low noise, lips parting and tongue darting out to meet his, hot and wet and _mindblowing_. He can feel himself slowly losing it, losing himself in Yuuri.

 

He trails his hands down Yuuri’s trim waist, down muscled thighs that could put any Thigh Master to shame. He runs his hands down to the backs of Yuuri’s thighs, and he lifts Yuuri up onto the white folding table, their lips still connected all throughout. “You’re perfect,” he says sotto voce, their lips brushing against each other once more. “You’re so, so perfect.”

 

Yuuri wraps his legs around Viktor’s torso as Viktor starts to press kisses along the line of Yuuri’s neck, leaving Yuuri clutching at Viktor’s nape, hips lifting slightly. Viktor settles his hands atop Yuuri’s legs, thumbs barely stroking along the bare skin of Yuuri’s inner thighs. When Viktor presses an open-mouthed kiss to Yuuri’s collarbone, intent on sucking another mark into his skin, that’s when Yuuri finally comes out of his reverie and gently pushes Viktor away, shaking his head.

 

“Not here,” Yuuri pants, “Not now.”

 

Viktor’s eyes darken when he finally sees Yuuri looking dishevelled like this in broad daylight, the red flush high atop his cheekbones, lips swollen and glistening with saliva, and covered with the slick sheen of sweat, highlighting his collarbones.

 

Yuuri moves forward and leans his weight onto Viktor, cheek-to-cheek. “It’s hard thinking clearly around you.” Yuuri admits, his voice quiet.

 

Viktor lets out a breathless laugh, his eyes fluttering shut. “I know,” he says, “I feel the same way.”

 

And the strangest thing about it was, that he’s never really felt like _this_ before. He’s felt attraction to many other people, yes, but with Yuuri, it was like someone had taken his emotions and amplified it through a speaker. Everything was so much louder, more vibrant, more present— just so much _more_ , it left him feeling overwhelmed with all these emotions he’s never felt to this extent before. Every kiss was exhilarating, and it left him dangling on the edge.

 

“I need to go change. They’re probably wondering what’s taking me so long.” Yuuri says, and Viktor steps back and helps him down the table. Yuuri takes another deep breath and grabs his paper bag before rushing out of the room.

 

As Viktor watches the door swing close, he leans against the edge of the table and tries catching his breath, honestly surprised with how breathless he already feels. He feels like he’s run a marathon. He’s only kissed Yuuri a handful of times, and yet he already can’t get enough. He _craves_ the feeling, the way Yuuri’s lips fit perfectly against his, the way Yuuri would press flush against him when they’d kiss.

 

He’s hooked. And he’s in so, so deep.

 

And if Viktor’s going to be serious about this— about whatever he has with Yuuri right now— then he knows he’ll have to tell Yuuri about his profession soon. Make him understand, because Viktor already likes him _so fucking much_.

 

He wants Yuuri to be his and he wants to be Yuuri’s. But if they’re going to establish that trust needed in their relationship, then they definitely needed to get on the same page. Somehow. But he doesn’t want to scare Yuuri off by bringing up the topic so suddenly— it’s in a precarious place right now, one where he can’t wait too long, or else it’ll be more detrimental than anything, but it’s also one he can’t spring on Yuuri _now_ of all times. It definitely has to be sometime soon.

 

He’s never felt so terrified in his life, since he knows, he knows, he _knows_ it can be something so beautiful, _so fucking beautiful_. And honestly, Viktor hasn’t had the best track record when it came to relationships, more often than not falling for the wrong types of people, so he really doesn’t want to screw this up.

 

He _can’t_ screw this up. He would literally freak out, and he already _knows_ his heart would break if Yuuri became the one that got away.

 

He finds himself lost in his thoughts, all these different scenarios of him telling Yuuri about his occupation as a porn star playing out in his head, each and every one varying in chances of success. He should just say it outright. No beating around the bush, since it’ll only make it look lowkey shifty. Or maybe he _should_ beat around the bush so he could somehow soften the blow. If not for Yuuri, then at least for _him_.

 

It’s only when he hears the sound of people speaking does he glance up again, and _holy shit_ , the moment he sees Yuuri walking in through that door, it’s like all the air has been robbed from his chest. His jaw drops to the floor, _speechless_.

 

Yuuri’s wearing a costume that’s more skin than anything, black spandex and leather clinging to every beautiful curve of his body like a second skin. There are black leather straps making up the body harness that winds its way around Yuuri’s upper body before leading down to his spandex booty shorts, and going all the way down to the tops of his black thigh-high boots. There are geometric cuts made on Yuuri’s shorts, forming a tempting V-shaped reveal, only covered by black mesh. It looks like the type of lingerie you’d find in Agent Provocateur, and Viktor is just— _wow._ ** _Wow._**

 

Yuuri has his hair slicked back, like he does before every performance, and if Viktor looks carefully, he can still see the telltale sign of a small hickey just above Yuuri’s clavicle. He makes his way over to him without even realising it, looking like he’d just straight-up won the lottery.

 

“Wow, Yuuri,” he breathes out, because _wow_. “You look amazing.”

 

Yuuri smiles, eyes trained to the floor. “Um. Thank you.”

 

“ _Wow_ ,” Viktor says again, unable to think of anything else.

 

Leo calls Yuuri over to where the other dancers are huddled together over the sound system. Yuuri lightly touches Viktor’s hand before he saunters over to them and— _wow_.

 

Viktor’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, very much _admiring_ the way Yuuri’s Amazing Ass™ looked in those sinfully tight shorts, two triangular cuts on either side of the fabric exposing more of his skin. They just looked so _tight_ , and briefly Viktor wonders how Yuuri’s ass would look if Viktor pulled them down from the back first, letting the tight spandex dig into the creases under his ass cheeks. That bullwhip would come in handy. Or maybe Viktor could use his bare hands, feeling the red and heated skin under the palms of his hands. Viktor raises a finger to his lips in thought, his own cheeks growing flushed.

 

And from there, it’s safe to say that his train of thought goes straight to the gutter. Not for the first time, he wonders what it’d be like to touch Yuuri’s butt, his hands digging into the soft and supple skin, spilling over in handfuls. What it’d be like to spread those cheeks open, splitting Yuuri open over his cock, just watching him _writhe_ in that skimpy spandex getup and coming undone with Viktor’s touch.

 

Would the fabric give way or would it tear at the seams? Would it leave red welts around his thighs? Those shorts do look awfully snug. Through the fabric of his black dance belt, Viktor can feel his dick twinge in interest.

 

He distantly hears his name being called, but he pays it no heed in favour of continuing to stare at Yuuri’s thick thighs just a little bit longer. A hand on his shoulder breaks him out of his reverie and he finds himself face-to-face with Leo. “Oh. Hi.”

 

“Dude. You’re not subtle,” is all Leo says, and Viktor flushes red hot with having been caught openly ogling Yuuri’s ass.

 

“Can you blame me?” Viktor admits, sheepish.

 

Leo laughs and motions to a single chair in front of the mirror facing the rest of the room, right beside the sound system. “You’re here to watch us practise, right? Then maybe you can help with the music.”

 

Viktor nods, flopping down on the chair. The other dancers are huddled near the studio, and when he looks up at Yuuri, Yuuri looks back at him, sparing him a quick glance and a small smile. Viktor reaches out and takes Yuuri’s hand into his own, pressing his lips to the back of Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri’s face turns red, and Viktor notices that, yeah, the blush _does_ go all the way down to his chest and even reaches the tips of his ears. Absolutely _perfect_.

 

Leo pairs his phone to the speakers and turns to Viktor. “When I say go, you hit play, alright? Thanks, man.”

 

“Sure.” Viktor leans back, Leo’s phone in his hand as he watches them make their way to the centre of the room. He peers down at the phone and his eyebrows raise at the song choice. The bullwhip made more sense now.

 

The moment he gets the go signal and hits play, the shift is palpable. It’s like the atmosphere of the room has changed completely, and Viktor doesn’t really know how to explain it, but it feels like there’s lightning in the air, crackling with raw energy; electric. He can see it in the way their gazes grow steely, expressions now serious, and when he looks at Yuuri, he already knows that _this_ is Eros. This is the Yuuri he sees perform onstage, to thunderingly loud music and the way his presence alone manages to command a whole room.

 

Viktor’s never felt more smitten.

 

* * *

 

“So what do you think?” Yuuri asks him before taking a swig of water during their five-minute break. Viktor watches the long line of his neck with immense interest, the way his Adam’s apple bobs with each gulp he takes. He finds it hard to look away, and honestly, with the way Yuuri had been dancing the past two hours, it’s safe to say he’s more than a little turned on right now. Even when Yuuri does innocuous things like drink water, Viktor’s brain short-circuits, any and all forms of coherent thought flying from his head. It’s weird because he’s never really noticed things like these before. Like, _ever_.

 

No, really.

 

Like, of course he’d notice things like the colour of their eyes, the shape of their lips, the way they would curl up when they’d smile at him, and the way their bodies looked. This was kinda like that, but at the same time, not. Did that make any sense? In Viktor’s experience, there have been videos— numerous ones!— where he would act completely transfixed with a specific part of a person’s body, perfectly playing the part as he practically worshipped them. In real life, however, he’s never really done it of his own accord himself. Until now, that is.

 

It’s like everything Yuuri does exudes this sort of sensual undercurrent that has yet to come out of its shell, but it’s present and it’s _there_ , just bubbling beneath the surface. Viktor wants to see it for himself.

 

When Viktor doesn’t answer, Yuuri glances away, hands fidgeting. “I mean, yeah, okay, I _know_ it’s not for everyone but—”

 

Viktor instantly snaps out of his thoughts, clinging onto Yuuri’s clasped hands, who jolts back in response to the abrupt movement. “Sorry, sorry, _solnyshko_ , I got distracted—”

 

“Oh. Okay.”

 

“—no no no. You were _amazing_ , baby. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you for even a second.”

 

“Look, you don’t have to sugarcoat anything, like, I’m not forcing you—”

 

Viktor blinks, taken aback. “ _Yuuri_.”

 

And Yuuri just stares at him again with that blank look Viktor could never decipher.

 

“I’m not sugarcoating _anything_ ,” Viktor says, a tinge of incredulousness in his tone. He squeezes Yuuri’s hands in what he hoped to be a comforting gesture. “I mean it when I say you were _absolutely_ amazing. I literally wouldn’t be able to stop watching you, even if I wanted to. You’re _that_ good.”

 

Finally Yuuri nods and sets his bottle back down. “Okay. That’s,” he lets out a low exhale. “That’s good.”

 

“It is,” Viktor says, insistent.

 

Yuuri opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but he closes it and smiles at Viktor instead. Still, something about it seems amiss. Maybe Viktor didn’t really know how to read Yuuri at all. That was an unsettling thought. But it wasn’t entirely unsurprising. They had only recently met after all. Viktor smiles back at him, kissing both of Yuuri’s hands. 

 

He watches as Yuuri pulls away from him to check his phone, looks at how different emotions flicker onto his face, yet he can’t quite seem to tell one from the other.

 

He’d just have to give it time.

 

* * *

 

“Viktor,” Yuuri says, tone serious and his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. Viktor practically _melts_ at the sight, letting out another enamoured sigh.

 

“Yes?” Viktor hums in response, raising another forkful of salad up to Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri scrunches his face up at the lettuce staring back at him and wraps his fingers around Viktor’s wrist, grip firm.

 

“Ah.” He makes a move to push Viktor’s hand away, but it doesn’t budge. He looks at Viktor sheepishly. “You know you don’t have to feed me, right? Because I’m _completely_ capable of eating on my own.”

 

Viktor pouts at him. “Well, I think it’s only fair I return the favour, don’t you think? You fed me pancakes last time.”

 

Yuuri furrows his brows, cheeks reddening even more. “W-Well that’s because you asked me to!”

 

“Aren’t your arms sore, Yuuri?” Viktor purrs, stretching his other hand out to run his fingertips along Yuuri’s arm. “Aren’t you absolutely _tired_?”

 

“Well, _kinda_ , but—”

 

“Then let me feed you! I’ll take good care of you, Yuuri, now say _ahh_.”

 

Yuuri momentarily glances up at the ceiling in defeat before eventually opening his mouth and letting Viktor feed him the forkful of greens. Immediately after, Yuuri pulls back and adjusts his glasses, averting Viktor’s gaze.

 

“This wasn’t what I had in mind when I said you could take me out for lunch,” he says weakly. “Just saying.”

 

“Well, I’ll have you know that I’ve made it a personal mission of mine to subvert and exceed your wildest expectations,” Viktor says easily, throwing in a coquettish wink for good measure.

 

Yuuri raises an eyebrow. “I see.” Then he leans in closer, a sultry smirk playing along his lips as he slowly runs his foot up Viktor’s leg from underneath the table. Viktor yelps in surprise, fork clattering to the table. “Is that a promise?”

 

It takes several tries for Viktor to find his voice again. He licks his lips, distracted by Yuuri’s pretty brown eyes pinning him down. How does Yuuri keep on doing that? Not that he’s complaining, definitely not, no.

 

“I can prove it to you if you’d like,” Viktor manages to say, all thoughts of eating and food far from his mind at the moment. He imagines Yuuri would like to be full of _something else_ instead. His cock twitches in interest at the very thought. “I’ll be good to you, I promise. And I _always_ keep my promises.”

 

(On the off-chance he remembers them, yes.)

 

(But honestly, this is one of those things that won’t slip from his mind so easily.)

 

Yuuri hums and gives him a contemplative look, still smiling at him. His socked foot goes from stroking Viktor’s calf all the way up to his inner thighs, the smirk on his face growing wider when Viktor jolts upwards in response. Viktor narrows his eyes at him, a heated look of arousal painting his features. “You’re such a tease, Yuuri,” he says, voice low. “You know that? You’ve been teasing me the entire day.”

 

Though Yuuri’s expression of faux naïf remains the same, the increased reddening of Yuuri’s cheeks is undeniable. When Yuuri doesn't say anything in response, Viktor continues, “And you like it, don’t you? You know full-well I could never take my eyes off you.”

 

Yuuri leans back in his chair and he uses the slide down to brush his foot up against Viktor’s crotch, pressing slightly. Viktor lets out a deep exhale, fingers flexing. Yuuri is a tease and he knows it. He’s _flaunting_ it. When Yuuri’s toes curl over his crotch, Viktor makes a show of checking his watch and signalling for their bill.

 

“We have around half an hour left before you need to go back to the dance studio,” Viktor says, and when he leans forward to reach for his wallet, his cock is already begging for more friction. “Why don’t we put that time to good use? I have a few ideas in mind.”

 

It’s an open invitation. _Take it_.

 

When the waiter approaches them, Yuuri brings his foot back down and Viktor pays for the bill, making sure to leave a generous tip. They leave the restaurant together, and Viktor, from all of Yuuri’s merciless teasing, already has a half-chub underneath his dancer belt. He uses his gym bag to partially cover himself as he follows Yuuri down the street, who seems unfazed as ever. Yuuri seems to really enjoy being in control of the situation, and Viktor can’t help but wonder if it’d carry on in the bedroom as well.

 

Yuuri still hasn’t answered him from when Viktor propositioned him earlier, and he doesn’t know whether or not to bring it up _now_ , or if Yuuri already has something in mind. They briskly walk back to the studio, and already, Viktor’s pretty much resigned to the inevitability he’ll be stuck fidgeting in a chair while trying to hide his arousal in front of Yuuri’s other friends. But to his surprise, Yuuri doesn’t turn to the rehearsal room his friends are in, but instead, he leads Viktor down a familiar hall, towards the private rehearsal rooms. Viktor’s heart is beating out of his chest in anticipation, his throat suddenly closing up, and Viktor just feels so _hot_.

 

Yuuri glances both ways before motioning Viktor into the private rehearsal room at the very end of the hall. When Viktor steps in, immediately the noise from outside is muted, and everything between them is so silent, and so, so _tense_.

 

When Viktor turns around, he finds another pair of lips latched onto his, and he lets out a deep sigh of content, eagerly returning the kiss. He wraps his arms around Yuuri’s back, clinging onto him, staying _close_ to him as much as he can, until the only thing between them is their clothes. He lets one arm go to let the bag slide down the floor, and when Yuuri pins him against the wall, it takes Viktor by surprise.

 

Their lips part and their tongues meet in the middle, curling, wet, and so unbearably _hot_. Viktor is _so fucking weak_ for this man. As Yuuri tangles his fingers into Viktor’s silvery hair, Viktor loses himself in Yuuri as he runs his hands up and down along the expanse of the other man’s chest, revelling in the way Yuuri’s muscles ripple over smooth skin like water over stone. Fuck, he’s so hot. So, so fucking hot. Drop-dead gorgeous.

 

Viktor deepens their kisses and his hands slide down Yuuri’s back to firmly grip two handfuls of Yuuri’s ass, squeezing them through the tight fabric of his pole shorts. A strained moan escapes Yuuri’s lips as he grinds their hips together, clinging onto Viktor’s waist.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Viktor hisses under his breath, bucking his hips in response, and the friction between them feels absolutely _incredible_. Yuuri’s lips leave his and he starts he starts to kiss down Viktor’s neck, down his collarbones, and, _oh fuck_ , he’s slowly sliding down to his knees as he leaves a trail of sloppy kisses down Viktor’s clothed chest, down his stomach, hands leaving deft and teasing touches _everywhere_.

 

Before he knows it, Yuuri’s already on his knees before him, breath hot against his crotch. He combs his fingers into Yuuri’s hair, brushing the fringe away, and moving Yuuri’s head up so he could look up at him. Yuuri looks up at him, pupils wide with desire. He reaches up for the waistband of Viktor’s jogging pants, moving in even closer, almost mouthing at Viktor’s hardening cock. Just as Yuuri is about to tug his jogging pants down, the door to the private rehearsal room swings open and a woman steps in.

 

The both of them freeze in shock, and the moment the woman sees the (likely more than suggestive) position they’re in, she shrieks and turns away, apologies incessantly flying from her lips.

 

Yuuri turns away from the door, his cheeks fifty shades crimson. He looks like a hot mess, and Viktor definitely knows he isn’t faring any better either. Yuuri quickly rises up to his feet, covering his face with one hand and tugging at his shirt with the other.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” Yuuri says, “Especially not here.”

 

He glances up at Viktor, an apologetic look on his face. “I really need to go. And, ah, sorry, but I think it’s best if you go home now too.”

 

Viktor stares at him with wide eyes, nodding, even though he really doesn’t want Yuuri to go. But this is the place where Yuuri works as a dance instructor, and he didn’t want Yuuri possibly risking losing his job by doing stuff like _this_ , where anyone could just walk in. “Okay. I understand.”

 

Yuuri looks a bit more relieved, and he leans in to peck Viktor’s lips before hurrying for the door. “Yuuko-san,” he calls out, tone apologetic, before his words are muffled by the door swinging close behind him.

 

Viktor lets out a shuddering breath, sinking to the floor. He tugs at his shirt in effort to cool himself down, erection still straining from behind his pants.

 

Fuck.

 

* * *

 

When Viktor gets home, the very first thing he does is head for the bedroom. He’s been on edge the entire day and he desperately craved for release to relieve him of at least _some_ of the tension. He gives Makkachin a few distracted and hurried pets on his way there before he locks the door behind him, leaving the poodle in the living room.

 

He wastes no time in pulling his shirt off in one go, leaving it haphazardly strewn somewhere on the floor. He reaches for the pump bottle of lubricant on his bedside table and gets on top of his bed. He lies on his back and ghosts his fingertips along his heated skin, all in a concerted effort to somehow _replicate_ or mimic Yuuri’s touches from earlier. But no matter how he tries, it just doesn’t feel the same as when Yuuri does it.

 

He lets out an exhale of pent-up frustration and decides to get right to it, tugging his jogging pants and his dance belt down in one tug, the elastic waistband catching at the top of his ass and along his thighs. When he feels the fabric brushing against his already-sensitive cock, he lets out a groan and kicks his jogging pants down to his knees.

 

Viktor reaches for the bottle of lube and pumps two squirts of the liquid, warming it up between his hands. He lays back down, using one hand to rub up and down his torso, playing with his nipples, while he uses the other to finally, _finally_ grip his aching, leaking cock. It’s already an angry shade of red, and the moment he slides his hand against his shaft, thumbing at the cock head, he practically sighs in relief, a few curses slipping from his lips.

 

He starts out with slow, long strokes, trying to savour the sensation, before the pleasure eventually plateaus and he starts to want more. He increases the speed of his strokes, practically fucking his own fist, getting himself off to the mental image of Yuuri’s plump lips, kiss-swollen and red, deliciously wrapped around his cock, sucking him off, and Viktor wants nothing more but to fuck that pretty mouth and fill it with the taste of him.

 

“Yuuri. Yuuri, fuck yes, just like that, baby,” Viktor moans, words melding together, incoherent. He uses his other hand to reach down and softly stroke his balls, his legs spreading even wider. The sounds he’s making right now are downright _filthy_ , and it's just so fucking much. “You’re so good, _too_ good to me, Yuuri.”

 

Viktor had been so wound up the whole day, that when he comes, it takes him completely by surprise and leaves him feeling like all the air had been squeezed out of his chest. Spurts of white coat his stomach and his hand, still pumping, riding out his orgasm. A high-pitched keen leaves his lips when he finally comes to, awash with pleasure. He gingerly removes his hand, wiping his cum on the sheets, before just laying there and trying to catch his breath. He rests his eyes for about ten minutes, then makes a move to get up and clean himself off. With the tissues neatly disposed of in the trash bin of his en suite, he wipes his stomach with a damp cloth for good measure and makes sure there aren’t any obvious cum stains on his jogging pants when he pulls them back up.

 

He puts a different shirt on and finally opens the door to let Makkachin in. He smiles, scratching behind Makkachin’s ears. “You definitely have to meet your future daddy soon, Makka,” he says, pulling the heavy poodle onto his lap and holding him like a baby. “He’s different and I really, really like him." 

 

A pause, and he glances back down at his poodle. "Say, Makka, wanna go for a walk?”

 

Almost immediately, Makkachin’s eyes grow wide, and he squirms out of Viktor’s arms, and scrambles out of the room before darting in and out through the door. Viktor laughs, chasing after Makkachin and grabbing his harness and lead so he could take his dog out for a much-needed trip outside.

 

* * *

 

After Viktor had taken Makkachin outside for a walk, he brought the poodle back up and changed Makkachin’s water bowl, setting dry kibble out for him to eat. Viktor takes a quick shower and washes off the day’s grime.

 

It’s late in the afternoon now, definitely, since Viktor lost track of time walking Makkachin. Which, in itself, was already something relatively new to him since he was usually always so busy from work. He’d only come home to shower, sleep, and care for Makkachin in the most basic of needs, only having ten minutes, tops, to walk his dog outside. Outside of that, he’d constantly spend his time in the studio, his shoots often going late into the night.

 

He had more time now, but aside from caring for Makkachin or attending his pole lessons with Yuuri, or going to Kachu’s, there wasn’t really _much_ going on for him. Most of the people he knew were either in other states or busy with their own lives. Come to think of it, most times he saw Chris or Mila was when he was in the studio for filming. He hadn’t even seen Yakov since he took a break nearly one week ago.

 

And sitting here in his apartment, consumed by silence save for the sound of Makkachin chewing on his football squeaky toy, only now does Viktor realise his life had been relatively _lonely_ or _quiet_ for most part. Sure, he had Makkachin, and he was beyond grateful to have a dog like Makka as a companion. But when it came to other people, in the end, he still was always quite on his own.

 

Now that he came to think about it, he hadn’t been seeing anyone for a long time before he met Yuuri. Failed relationship after failed relationship, at one point, Viktor had just gone ‘fuck it all’ to the whole dating thing and threw himself into his work, never allowing himself a moment to even stop and take everything in. To actually _be in_ the moment and experience life for himself, instead of living vicariously through the lens of a camera.

 

Makkachin comes in, holding the toy in his mouth, and his tail wagging. Viktor smiles at him fondly, though not without a hint of sadness. Makkachin’s been such a good boy. He’ll always be such a good boy, and it makes Viktor’s throat close up just thinking of all the years he’d let pass him by without properly spending time with Makkachin.

 

And it makes him emotional knowing that Makkachin won’t be able to stick around forever, so he’s more grateful he took this time to take a break from his career. It was a much-needed break, honestly.

 

He pulls Makkachin into his arms, and even though Makkachin’s tail is still wagging playfully, he’s content just to be in his master’s embrace.

 

“I love you, Makkachin,” Viktor says, kissing the top of Makkachin’s head. Makka licks his cheek in return. “Sorry I haven’t been a good papa lately. I promise I’ll try harder.”

 

They stay like that for a few minutes before Makkachin eventually squirms away so he could run back out of the bedroom.

 

Viktor sighs, chest feeling heavy as he slowly rises to his feet so he could head to his study. Better get to work sooner rather than later. Even though he’d taken a temporary hiatus from filming, he still had official business to take care of. Yakov managed bulk of his bookings, but Viktor still did have emails to answer especially when it came to third-party studios looking to hire him for a particular movie or scene.

 

He opens his Macbook up and goes through his emails, even noting an offer from a sex toy company offering to make a dildo moulded after his cock. He’d done it before, also from the same company, and he still did receive plenty of royalties for compensation, but with today’s technology, it’d be a vibrating dildo this time around. It was, yeah, really interesting to say the least. And, really, quite an honour. Not many people had dildos moulded after their dicks, and it’s as good as an offer as any other, especially with royalties. He sends them an email back so he can book an appointment.

 

He receives an email from Yakov, with a zip file containing different scripts to occupy his time when he was done with his break. Most of them are customised for VR content, so Viktor will be able to move around the room more instead of staying in just one place. He goes through the scripts, just skimming through the dialogue for the nitty-gritty, and finds a meet and fuck script where he acts as a pole instructor and fucks one of his busty blond students right then and there. His eyes glaze over the screen, wide in disbelief, and he feels somewhat _upset_ , even though he isn’t supposed to be.

 

His career isn’t a reflection of his personal life. It isn’t a reflection of who he is. He _knows_ that. This is his _job_ , and in no way is this related to Yuuri, as much as the similarities are there. It’s all a coincidence. Yuuri isn’t just some quick fuck. He isn’t a co-star for a film. No, he’s _real_ , and so much more. What they have is real. _This_ is real.

 

He just needs to remember that.

 

* * *

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
gonna rewatch King and the Skater with @katsukidon!! cue the cookie dough ben & jerry’s and a whirlwind of Emotions™ (Dancer )(Dancer ) 7:12 PM - 20 February 2017  153  504 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
omg donkey literally almost just tried to jump off the couch  7:34 PM - 20 February 2017  201  548 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
i almost went into cardiac arrest?? thank god for @katsukidon n his beautiful nimble dancer handzz (Person Raising Both Hands In Celebration ≊ Person Raising Hands)(Smiling Face With Halo ) 7:34 PM - 20 February 2017  341  794 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
anyone who doesn’t understand the appeal of King and the Skater needs to try harder (Waving Hand Sign ≊ Waving Hand)(Waving Hand Sign ≊ Waving Hand) 8:17 PM - 20 February 2017  286  563 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
i’ve always tried keeping the drama to a minimum, and in my videos and social media, i’ve always tried to be true to myself  9:23 PM - 20 February 2017  564  1,233 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
knowing the community i’m in, i know there’s a lot of toxicity and u need to choose who u associate urself with  9:23 PM - 20 February 2017  645  1,456 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
y’all know i’ve never tried to cause waves with scandals or rumours  9:24 PM - 20 February 2017  489  948 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
if people talk shit about me, why should i do anything to change their minds when the truth is already out there?  9:24 PM - 20 February 2017  431  895 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
seriously, fact checking is so underrated in 2017  9:24 PM - 20 February 2017  1,223  2,394 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
but when it comes to the people i care about? that’s a whole different story  9:25 PM - 20 February 2017  976  1,377 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
do you know what i hate the most? other than fake people, more than anything, i fucking HATE fake friends  9:26 PM - 20 February 2017  1,948  2,465 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
you know the ones: the ones that smile in ur face but talk shit about you the moment u turn ur back  9:26 PM - 20 February 2017  2,155  2,809 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
everybody got a fake ass friend, and tbh i am TIRED of ur bullshit  9:27 PM - 20 February 2017  2,675  3,363 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
u literally just upset one of THE MOST important people in my life with all ur toxic BULLSHIT u think is "CARING"  9:28 PM - 20 February 2017  2,576  3,465 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
BITCH who the fuck are you trying to fool??? SINCE DAY ONE, I KNEW U WERE NEVER A REAL ONE  9:29 PM - 20 February 2017  2,678  3,890 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
LIKE HELL I KNOW WHY HE STILL KEPT U IN HIS LIFE DIDN’T WANT TO START SHIT, HE SAID DIDNT WANT TO CREATE HATE, HE SAID  9:30 PM - 20 February 2017  2,931  3,945 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
BUT BITCH YOU DID THAT AAALLLL BY YOURSELF AND I AM FUCKING SICK OF IT AND DON’T U DARE PLAY THE FUCKING VICTIM  9:30 PM - 20 February 2017  3,102  4,210 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
BITCH LITERALLY PIMPS HIM OUT TO SOMEONE HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW THINKING SHE WAS DOING HIM A FUCKING FAVOR  9:31 PM - 20 February 2017  3,125  4,341 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
YOU FUCKING SNAKE, WHO GAVE YOU THE FUCKING RIGHT?? WHO BITCH WHO???  9:31 PM - 20 February 2017  3,323  4,451 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO GIVE HIS NUMBER OUT TO RANDOM OLD ASS MEN WITHOUT HIS FUCKING CONSENT  9:32 PM - 20 February 2017  3,437  4,582 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
AND NOW THEY’RE FUCKING HARASSING HIM BC THEY THINK HE ALLOWED U TO GIVE THEM HIS NUMBER  9:33 PM - 20 February 2017  3,568  4,576 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
THEY THINK HE WANTED THIS!!! WHICH HE DIDN’T FY FUCKING I!!  9:33 PM - 20 February 2017  3,554  4,455 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
AND IF ANY OF U SALT DADDIES ARE READING THIS, U KNOW WHO U ARE CONSIDER THIS MY UNOFFICIAL C&D (Smiling Face With Smiling Eyes ) STOP SENDING HIM UR WRINKLY ASS DICK PICS  9:35 PM - 20 February 2017  9,493  10.6K 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
ALSO UR BALLS LOOK LIKE FUCKING DRIED PRUNES & UR DICK LOOKS LIKE 3-DAY OLD VIENNA SAUSAGE LEFT IN THE SUN  9:36 PM - 20 February 2017  8,392  9,900 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
UR OLD ASS FORGOT THE CARDINAL OF TAKING NUDES. DON’T INCLUDE UR FACE IN IT U SAGGY DILDOS  9:38 PM - 20 February 2017  6,259  7,498 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
CROSS ME AND MY BEST FRIEND AGAIN, AND I WILL PERSONALLY EXPOSE YOU WHERE EVERYONE CAN SEE (Smiling Face With Smiling Eyes )(Smiling Face With Smiling Eyes )(Smiling Face With Smiling Eyes ) 9:40 PM - 20 February 2017  11.1K  12.4K 

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
those who try to justify slutshaming deserve a special spot in hell  9:41 PM - 20 February 2017  17.8K  25.1K 

> @v-nikiforov followed @phichit+chu
> 
> @v-nikiforov followed @katsukidon
> 
>  
> 
> ⇄ Vitya Retweeted

YA BOY PHICHIT   
@phichit+chu   
those who try to justify slutshaming deserve a special spot in hell  9:41 PM - 20 February 2017  17.8K  25.1K 

>  
> 
> @phichit+chu followed @v-nikiforov
> 
>  

@v-nikiforov

**Today** 9:52 PM  
Is Yuuri okay? Can I come over and talk to him? I just want to make sure he's alright.

You can come over in the morning. Yuuri's still shaken up right now.

Alright, I will. I'll drop by early tomorrow.

Wait, how did you know it was him?

He got a text when I was with him the other night. It really upset him.

Okay... Just don't overwhelm him when you come by tomorrow

Okay

Vitya   
@v-nikiforov   
Wish I was with you right now.  10:17 PM - 20 February 2017  9,269  13.6K 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yamamoto: Yuuri’s butt is not spectacular  
> me: i can fix that
> 
> hey i love u guys (´♡｀)/ sorry for the late update, got caught up with on-the-job training n stuff,, finally gave coding a try and i'm happy w how it turned out!
> 
> leave a kudos n tell me what u think!
> 
> tumblr: [ragdollyouth](http://ragdollyouth.tumblr.com/)  
> twitter: [@katsukidon_](https://twitter.com/katsukidon_)


	10. ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title; sung to the tune of Bacon Pancakes from Adventure Time: 'Makin' pancakes, makin' Russian pancakes' 
> 
> Viktor drops by Yuuri's house to make sure he's alright. 
> 
> -
> 
> Viktor feels breathless whenever he looks at him, but this— this is a Yuuri he’s never seen before. Hair mussed up, glasses askew, bundled up in a sweater and somewhat only half-conscious. 
> 
> He’s adorable.

Viktor shows up at Yuuri and Phichit’s house bright and early the next day, a paper bag in one arm and Makkachin’s bright red leash tangled in the other. He waits after ringing the doorbell twice, rocking back and forth on his heels, and already, he can see Makkachin sniffing around curiously, taking in all of the different surroundings. He’s probably wondering what this new place is!

 

He hears a faint ‘Coming!’ from behind the door, and in seconds, the front door opens to reveal Phichit, who’s staring at him in genuine surprise. “Viktor.”

 

“Hi!” Viktor greets, sending Phichit an amiable smile. He shrugs his shoulders, already feeling his heart race at the thought of seeing Yuuri. Best part is, Makkachin’s with him! “I’m here!”

 

“Wow,” Phichit drawls, leaning back on his heels. “You _actually came_.”

 

Viktor’s brows furrow in bemusement. “Um. Yeah, of course. Like, you _did_ say I could drop by in the morning, right?” A look of panic momentarily flitters across his face. “Oh, shit. Am I too early?”

 

“No, you’re fine,” Phichit dismisses, a type of wariness in the way he gives Viktor a glance-over before finally taking notice of Makkachin, who’s sniffing at Phichit’s jeans with increasing interest. Phichit smiles, offering a hand for Makkachin to inspect. “Is this your dog?”

 

“Yeah,” Viktor says, “His name is Makkachin! Oh, right. Is it okay if I brought him inside with me? I mean, would you mind? I promise he’s very well behaved. I trained him myself!”

 

Phichit briefly shakes his head before stepping back to let the both of them into the house. “No, it’s fine. Great, actually, since Yuuri _loves_ dogs. Yeah, you’ll get along well.”

 

Viktor’s heart skips a beat as he gently tugs on Makkachin’s lead to coax him into the house. “Really? That’s— Yeah, that’s great! Does he have a dog too?”

 

Phichit closes the door behind them, gesturing for Viktor to follow him down the hall. “He does, but his dog’s back home in Japan. Whenever Yuuri would Skype with his family, his dog would join in too. _Super cute_. Actually— Crazy coincidence! Yuuri’s dog kinda looks like yours, only _way_ tinier. His is a toy poodle, I think.”

 

Viktor nods, taking the new information in as he glances around the narrow hallway, with a wooden entryway at the very end of the hall leading to the rest of the house. The colour of the house from the outside had also carried on in its interior, muted olive green walls casing them in, with teak wooden accents matching the floor.

 

The rest of the house is quiet; no noise whatsoever save for the sound of their footfalls. Dare he say, he finds it a little bit… disquieting.

 

There are white frames all over the walls; some rectangle, some square, some accented with silver. They’re all filled with pictures of Yuuri and Phichit, with their many friends. Only a scant few are familiar faces, Chris and Yuri included, but the rest are unrecognisable to him. He sees a picture of Yuuri with Minako Okukawa and Dita Von Teese, probably taken at Kachu’s during a show, since all three of them are still in costume, backs turned to the crowd. Beside it is a photograph of Yuuri with another woman, probably in her early or mid-fifties, the both of them dressed to the nines in black tie formal wear.

 

There’s something about the way Yuuri looks in that picture that captures Viktor’s attention. Even through the lens of a camera and in print, though Yuuri’s features are gentle, there’s a hard edge to his eyes that makes the entire photo seem a bit off. Viktor scrutinises it for a moment before he turns away and follows Phichit into the living room.

 

“Okay,” Phichit starts, turning back around to face him. “I’m sure I don’t need to _remind_ you of that little talk we had a few days ago. Or do I?”

 

Viktor’s eyes widen in realisation. “Oh. _Oh._ No, that— that won’t be necessary. I still remember what we talked about, yes.”

 

Phichit smiles at him, pleased with the answer. “Good. Because I still stand by every word I said. Since we got _that_ over and done with,” he glances down at his watch. “I should be leaving for class right about now, but I’ll wake Yuuri up for you first!”

 

“ _No wait!_ ” Viktor exclaims, stepping forward. “Look, you don’t— you don’t _have_ to wake him up for me. I can, ah—” He glances around the room; spots the white leather couch in front of the TV. “I can just sit on the couch and wait for him here until he wakes up!”

 

“Um. It’s seven AM,” Phichit says matter-of-factly, giving him a look. “If I don’t wake him up now, then he won’t get up until he absolutely _has_ to. And he has practise after lunch. You do the math.”

 

Without waiting for a response, Phichit makes his way up the stairs, leaving Viktor alone with Makkachin. He stands around awkwardly in the middle of the room, eyes darting around before leaning down to pet Makkachin’s soft fur in effort to somehow calm himself down.

 

“Be a good boy, okay, Makkachin?” Viktor coos softly beneath his breath, leading Makkachin over to the couch before gingerly sitting down, making sure to move a few colourful throw pillows and a large purple knit blanket aside. “I know you’re already a good boy, but make sure to be extra behaved today, alright?”

 

Makkachin sniffs at the coffee table laden with different DVDs, game controllers and wires, high fashion magazines, and, interestingly enough, a rainbow glass bong pipe. Eventually, the poodle settles at Viktor’s feet, resting his head on his paws.

 

Viktor sets the paper bag beside him on the couch, and with nothing else to do but wait, he absently contents himself with petting Makkachin (who doesn’t seem to mind the extra attention one bit), curiously glancing around the room. He glances over his shoulder and in the dining area next to the kitchen, he spots a ceramic vase full of blue roses atop the mahogany dining table. He can’t help but smile, seeing the roses were still well-kept for. They were freshly trimmed when Viktor got them, so even if it’s already been a few days, the edges of the roses have barely started to wilt.

 

Though the house is nicely furnished, it’s obviously still very lived-in and cozy. But there’s something about the way it was decorated— not just with the actual décor itself, no, but with the way the house was constructed as well, even at a glance. If anything, it’s a house perfectly made for two.

 

He hears the sounds of muffled voices coming from upstairs, his heart beginning to race against his chest when he picks up on the undertones of Yuuri’s voice along with Phichit’s. A door opens then closes; then there are footsteps deftly making their way downstairs. Viktor whirls around to face the staircase, only to feel slightly disappointed when he sees it’s Phichit at the foot of the stairs.

 

Phichit walks over to the dining table, littered with all sorts of cosmetics and filming paraphernalia before plucking his Oxford bag up from one of the chairs and slinging it over his shoulder.

 

“I already told him you’re here,” he says, opening the fridge and shoving a small carton of organic almond milk into his bag, “so he’ll come down in a few minutes. He literally just woke up, but I really, _really_ have to go, so I guess I’ll leave you two lovebirds here!”

 

“Oh,” Viktor lets out a breathless chuckle, cheeks flushing a light red at the term. ‘Lovebirds’, huh? “Okay. I’ll take good care of him!”

 

“Guess I’ll see you when I see you? Oh right,” Phichit pauses, pointing a fingergun at Viktor. “ _Another_ thing. If anything R-rated happens? Yuuri knows where the condoms are, so don’t worry.”

 

Viktor honest-to-God chokes on his spit at the implication, eyes widening in incredulousness. It— It wasn’t like that! Well, fuck, not right _now_ at least. Honestly, when he came over here, the last thing on his mind was a hookup. He’s genuinely worried about Yuuri, okay? He just wanted to check up on him, make sure he was okay! But before he can even get a word in edgeways to convince Phichit otherwise, the latter is already out of the front door, leaving the house engulfed in silence again.

 

Mildly frustrated, Viktor runs a hand through his hair, ensconcing himself further into the plush couch. He briefly wonders if Phichit thinks all Viktor wants from Yuuri is to get laid. Does Yuuri think that too? Viktor doesn’t know exactly _why_ , but just thinking about it makes his chest hurt. He’s— He’s attracted to Yuuri, but a plain hookup isn’t all he’s after, right?

 

Makkachin whines upon sensing his master’s distress, scratching at Viktor’s knee with his paw. Viktor absently pats Makkachin’s head, finding comfort as he does so, and the poodle is more than happy just to make sure his human is feeling better. They stay there for some time, about fifteen or so minutes.

 

Makkachin’s ears perk up when he hears more footsteps, and the movement is enough to bring Viktor out of his (increasingly debilitating) thoughts. He sits up straighter, heart rapidly thumping against his chest when he sees Yuuri— _Yuuri!!_ — making his way down the stairs.

 

“Hi!” Viktor exclaims, unable to help himself from doing so. He stands up, grinning from ear to ear and clutching Makkachin’s lead in one hand.

 

Yuuri doesn’t respond until he’s already at the base of the stairs, gripping onto the wooden banister. Viktor feels breathless whenever he looks at him, but this— _this_ is a Yuuri he’s never seen before. Hair mussed up, glasses askew, bundled up in a sweater and somewhat only half-conscious.

 

He’s _adorable_.

 

“So you’re here,” Yuuri drawls, voice husky and still laced with sleep. He shoves his glasses up as he rubs the tiredness from his eyes.

 

Viktor beams sunshine, admiring the way Yuuri’s sweater rides up as he does just that. “Yeah? Phichit told you I’d be here, didn’t he?”

 

“Yeah, but like,” he makes a vague gesticulation, a nonchalant shrug. “People, they… They tend to say things like that sometimes, but then they never mean it. So.”

 

A soft exhale. Viktor’s smile falters. “Oh.”

 

Yuuri nods, still rubbing his face. “Mm. Yeah.”

 

Viktor makes an open gesture with his arms, even if Yuuri isn’t exactly looking at him at the moment. “Well _I’m_ here. I mean it.”

 

“I mean, I guess so—” Yuuri pauses when he finally takes notice of Makkachin, tail wagging and looking back at Yuuri excitedly from Viktor’s feet. In an instant, Yuuri’s entire face lights up (and Viktor’s heart absolutely _melts_ at the sight), a soft, shy smile on his lips. “Is that your dog?”

 

Viktor’s heart skips a beat as he leads Makkachin over to Yuuri, though still trying to keep a safe distance. “Yeah! Yuuri, meet Makkachin! He’s a good boy, I promise.”

 

“No, I believe you.” Yuuri approaches the poodle and gets down to his knees in order to look at Makka at eye-level. When he looks up at Viktor, the smile on his face is more genuine, more _real_. “He’s so cute! Ah, hi Makkachin!”

 

Makkachin takes to him very quickly, licking Yuuri’s hands when the latter tries to pet him. “I have a poodle too! His name’s Vicchan,” Yuuri says, giving Makka a good scratch behind the ears. “He looks like Makkachin. He’s back at home with my family in Japan though.”

 

Viktor nods, “Yeah. I mean, I heard from Phichit.” He draws in and exhales a deep breath. “How are you feeling, _solnyshko_?”

 

For a moment, Yuuri is silent; he comes to a pause, fingers still running through Makkachin’s fur, even as the poodle is licking the side of his face. Yuuri turns away from Makka to look up at Viktor, and from behind those glasses, Viktor thinks Yuuri may be unreadable as ever.

 

“I’m— I’m fine, I guess. Like.” He glances away, licks his lips in thought. His brows furrow, and Viktor wants nothing more than to smooth the lines away with his thumbs and pepper his face with kisses until Yuuri is laughing again. In the end, Yuuri just shrugs, casting off an air of feigned nonchalance. “It’s like whatever, okay? Like, I’m used to it.”

 

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something more, and Viktor waits on his words with bated breath. To his dismay, Yuuri shakes his head as if dismissing the thought and goes back to petting Makkachin.

 

In a split-second decision, Viktor gets down to his knees beside Yuuri and covers Yuuri’s hand with his, still buried in Makkachin’s fur. Viktor isn’t sure if he imagined it, but he thinks he might have heard Yuuri’s breath hitch.

 

“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t make what they did any less okay,” Viktor says seriously, watching as Yuuri’s fingers splay out so Viktor can lace their fingers together. His hand is warm; soft.

 

“I _know_ that,” Yuuri replies, his voice the slightest bit tremulous as he turns to look at Viktor. “It’s not like I _tolerate_ it or anything, but I just— I don’t see any point in making a big deal out of it than it already is. Can we just drop the subject already?”

 

“Alright, alright,” Viktor acquiesces, kissing Yuuri’s temple, then his cheek. “No more bad vibes today, so let’s start all over. Yuuri, meet Makkachin! Some of his hobbies include long walks at the beach, stealing socks from the laundry, singing along with Elsa whenever he listens to _Let It Go_ , and farting in his sleep! I’m not kidding about the last one. Makkachin had his butt to my face when he farted one time. Ugh, _never again_.”

 

Yuuri giggle-snorts. “Sounds like a real peach.”

 

“Yeah, I really know how to pick ‘em,” Viktor leans in and rests his forehead against Yuuri’s, only a few inches of space in between them. He’s still smiling. “Good morning, by the way.”

 

Yuuri stares up at Viktor through beautiful brown eyes half-mast, cupping Viktor’s cheek before closing the gap between them with a soft kiss. Yuuri tastes like peppermint.

 

“Good morning,” Yuuri greets back, his voice soft; breath warm against Viktor’s lips. Unable to help himself, Viktor goes back in for another kiss, relishing in the taste of him. He kisses Yuuri over and over until he can _feel_ Yuuri smiling, stifling a laugh as he kisses Viktor back. Eventually, it comes to the point where Yuuri is placing his hands on Viktor’s shoulders, not exactly pushing him away, but not pulling him in either.

 

Viktor pulls away, their lips making a wet _pop!_ as he stares at Yuuri through eyes half-mast. For a moment, he thinks it isn’t _fair_ since Yuuri looks like he’s barely affected by Viktor, compared to how wrecked Viktor is, how delirious he is just from kissing Yuuri. Aside from Yuuri’s kiss-swollen lips, and a light flush that’s spread across his cheeks, he’s looking at Viktor with a mixture of bemusement and expectation.

 

“Yeah, good morning,” Viktor says, slightly breathless.

 

To his surprise, Yuuri drapes his arms over Viktor’s shoulders, kissing the tip of his nose. “Good morning.”

 

They both break out in a fit of laughter, a fluttery feeling in Viktor’s stomach as he looks at him.

 

“What?” Viktor finds himself asking, “Why are we laughing?”

 

It only makes Yuuri laugh even more, and Viktor _loves_ it. He _loves_ Yuuri’s laugh, and he loves that he can make Yuuri laugh. It sounds silly, but to Viktor, it feels like an achievement.

 

Yuuri shakes his head, buries his face into Viktor’s shoulder. Viktor bites his bottom lip, still unable to keep himself from smiling. He lifts his arms up and wraps them around Yuuri, pulling him in for a warm embrace. Yuuri settles into his arms and lets out a sigh. He moves so his mouth isn’t muffled by Viktor’s shirt. “So what do you want for breakfast?”

 

“I was thinking, maybe we can make some syrniki for breakfast?” Though not without a hint of regret, Viktor pulls away from Yuuri’s (warm, warm) arms and rises up to his feet, padding over to the couch and reaching for the paper bag filled to the brim with ingredients they’d need to make some syrniki. “I mean, I already got the ingredients for it, so maybe..?”

 

Yuuri gets up as well, adjusting his glasses. He shrugs. “I don’t see why not? Except, get this: I don’t know how to make syrniki.”

 

Viktor lets out a laugh, beaming at him. He gestures to himself with a free hand. “That’s what I’m here for! Worry not, dear Yuuri, I’ll guide you through it.”

 

When he accompanies this with a wink, Yuuri snorts, glancing downwards and slowly biting his plush bottom lip, cheeks reddening. “Sure.”

 

Viktor lets out a soft whimper at the sight, his own face flushing red. God, so _perfect_. He is _so fucking weak_ for him. This man will be the death of him. He can already tell.

 

He rushes over to Yuuri’s side and drapes an arm around his waist, kissing his temple as Yuuri leads them over to the kitchen area tucked into one corner of the room, an island counter with two barstools separating it from the dining area. Under Viktor’s instruction, Yuuri starts pulling out various materials and appliances they’d need to make the syrniki while Viktor gets the ingredients ready, placing them onto the island counter. Their kitchen is smaller than the one in Viktor’s penthouse but already, he could tell this one has had much more use or purpose than his ever did.

 

It’s just too easy to order in, honestly.

 

“Okay, so what do we do first?” Yuuri asks, eyeing the ingredients warily. “I assume we aren’t just gonna add pancake mix, eggs, and milk for this one.”

 

“Nope! We’re gonna do it the old-fashioned way!” Viktor chirps. He steps back and hums in thought for a moment, placing a pointer finger to his lips. “Alright, so I’ll measure the rest of the ingredients, so maybe you can get that bowl over there,”

 

“This one?” Yuuri asks, reaching for a large glass bowl.

 

“Yep!” Viktor reaches for the carton of eggs. “Can you crack four eggs for me? You don’t have to mix it yet.”

 

Yuuri nods. “Okay.”

 

They both go about their tasks, Viktor eventually pouring the ingredients into the bowl, and with Yuuri’s help with the hand-mixer, they get a good batter going. With how much quark Viktor had put in, it was definitely going to be… _cheesy_.

 

“So where’d you learn how to make this?” Yuuri asks, breaking the brief yet comfortable silence that had fallen over them. “Family recipe? Passed on from generation to generation?”

 

“Google, actually,” and they both laugh. When the laughter dies down, he continues, “You actually got it spot on, though. I learnt this recipe making syrniki with my grandmother in Russia.”

 

“Oh,” Yuuri says, and then he doesn’t speak after that.

 

After a beat, Viktor continues where he left off anyway. “During the weekends, I’d wake up early and help her make breakfast for everyone else in the house.” He smiles at the memory. “She’d let me add the cheese and sprinkle the raisins in at first, but as I got older, I managed to learn the recipe myself.”

 

Viktor pours in a mixture of vinegar and baking soda into the batter, then continues stirring it with the hand-mixer.

 

Yuuri licks his lips, looking like he wants to say something, yet at the same time, he seemsuncertain. If anything, it looked like Yuuri was out of his comfort zone.

 

“Sorry,” he eventually says, sheepishness evident in his tone. “I’m not really used to—” a vague gesticulation between them, “ _this_.”

 

Viktor pauses for a moment and glances up at him, brows furrowed in bemusement. “Not used to..?”

 

Yuuri glances away. “Nothing. It’s— it’s just—” Finally, he lets out a resigned sigh. “I’m not used to a lot of things.”

 

Viktor mulls over that for a moment. “Well, is _this_ ,” he gestures to the two of them. “Is this a good thing then? For you, I mean.”

 

A shrug. Viktor can see the open frankness in Yuuri’s expression. “Yeah.”

 

“Yeah?” A smile slowly creeps onto Viktor’s face.

 

Yuuri smiles back at him. “Yeah.”

 

After a bit more mixing, Viktor lets Yuuri do the honours of pouring the raisins into the batter. Even though it won’t make a difference in a couple more minutes, Yuuri makes a smiley face using the raisins anyway. But to Viktor, it’s the memory of it that matters. Just thinking about it, he realises he wants to make more new memories with Yuuri, even if they’re just minute instances in time.

 

“Okay!” Viktor claps his hands together, inspecting their handiwork. He reaches for the hand-mixer. “I’ll mix the raisins in for us, _solnyshko_.”

 

“Should I get the pan ready now?”

 

“No, not yet. Can you get that plate over there? Yeah, the shallow dish. Fill it with flour, but not too much.”

 

Yuuri nods, reaching for the bag of flour and pouring in a moderate amount. “Like this?”

 

Viktor wraps his arm around Yuuri’s waist, kissing his cheek. “Perfect!”

 

“Okay, so while you’re doing that, do you want anything to drink?” Yuuri asks him, turning around so he could rummage through the wooden cabinets overhead. He pulls tin cans in various colours and sizes before setting them down on the countertop. “We have coffee, tea, and hot chocolate.”

 

“Your pick, Yuuri,” Viktor says, glancing over his shoulder to smile at him. “I trust your judgement.”

 

“I don’t,” Yuuri mutters under his breath, picking two tins up and examining them carefully. Eventually, he shrugs and plugs the electric kettle on. Yuuri gets the pan ready as per Viktor’s instruction, with the heat on medium and a few tablespoonfuls of extra light olive oil. While that’s preheating, Yuuri and Viktor take scoopfuls of the batter and sprinkle flour over it, pressing them down and making them into patties. 

 

When the pan and oil are hot enough, Viktor places the patties into the pan as they mould them. Yuuri sautés them until they’re golden brown, making sure to only flip once while cooking (‘That part’s important, _solnyshko_!’)

 

Now, it’s time for the mixed berry compote! Took a bit more work on Viktor’s end, compared to just buying a jar of preserves or jam, but he found it to be more worthwhile since it made the syrniki taste so much better.

 

Viktor gets a small saucepan from the cupboard Yuuri got the pan from and placed it right beside the pan, heating it up a bit. He melts some unsalted butter in the saucepan, then gradually stirs in brown sugar and a squeeze of lemon juice. He stirs the mixture around until the sugar is dissolved, and he smiles when he realises he’s standing close to Yuuri, who’s still diligently making sure the syrniki is golden brown before he flips them.

 

In a bout of sudden boldness, he playfully bumps his hip against Yuuri’s. Yuuri steps to the side, looking at him in surprise, but that soon melts away into a smile as he returns the gesture, with only a bit more force.

 

Viktor eventually adds the pack of mixed berries into the pot, careful not to break them, but enough to get the most of the flavour out of the berries. When that’s done, he turns the burner off and helps Yuuri form the rest of the syrniki, eventually taking over frying duties himself.

 

“Mm, that smells good,” Yuuri comments, curiously peering into the saucepan.

 

“Yeah, it’s the _best_ with syrniki. And vice-versa.”

 

“They’re like the fancy version of pancakes. Like, if regular pancakes were black coffee, then these would be, like, a rainbow unicorn frappé. With edible glitter. And you don’t even just put it on the table, no. You’d have to have, like, a coaster. But it wouldn’t be a regular one that just does its job. Because that’d be boring. It’d be a fancy one, even if it’d eventually soak through and defeat the point of having a coaster in the first place. It’d be a lace doily.”

 

“I guess so? I like the way you think, _solnyshko_.” Viktor says with a laugh, eventually turning the stovetop off and placing the last of the syrniki on the giant turquoise ceramic plate Yuuri had brought out.

 

“How do people actually have time to make these?” Yuuri says, taking a seat on one of the barstools by the island counter. He sets two plates out on the counter as he does so, scooping three pancakes up for each plate.

 

“For a long time, I didn’t,” Viktor says; then pauses for a moment. He takes some confectioner’s sugar and sprinkles the syrniki with it. “Time, I mean. Like, I didn’t really have time to do… _anything_ , really.”

 

“How come?”

 

“I was busy… with work. All I did was work. I think that, for the longest time, I was a workaholic, but I never really _realised_ it until very recently. Either way, I’m glad I got some time off.” Viktor almost hesitates. “How about you, Yuuri? You seem busy all the time. Isn’t working two jobs kind of hectic for you?”

 

Yuuri sighs, shrugging his shoulders. He gets up and prepares them two mugs of rooibos and vanilla tea. “It’s only been these days, actually.” He hands Viktor his mug, and Viktor accepts it gratefully, taking a small sip. “Normally, it’s manageable for me. Like, I don’t perform at Kachu’s every night, just like how I don’t have to teach pole classes _every_ day. I still do have time, but it’s just that I have a competition coming up soon, so I’ve only been focusing on that.”

 

That catches Viktor’s attention. “A competition? For what?”

 

“A pole competition. I’ll be representing Japan, so—”

 

Viktor’s heart flutters. Just when he thought Yuuri couldn’t get anymore _amazing_. “That sounds wonderful, Yuuri!”

 

“I guess, yeah.”

 

“Where will the competition be?” Viktor asks, grinning at him excitedly as he scoops a dollop of sour cream on top of the pancakes and topping it with the mixed berry compote.

 

“I’ll be flying out to Las Vegas next week. With the others from practise yesterday, actually.”

 

It may be too sudden, but Viktor realises he _really, really, really_ wants to go to Las Vegas with Yuuri. Could he, perhaps? Should he ask him now, or should he wait until they’ve both eaten? What if it was too soon to ask? It’d be like taking a trip, right? No harm in that, right? Just thinking about dropping everything and flying somewhere with Yuuri— it’s _exciting_!!

 

As Yuuri grabs forks and knives for them, Viktor settles into his seat, as well as the thought of booking a flight to Nevada right here, right _now_ , just so he could be in Las Vegas with Yuuri. But there’s still so much he doesn’t know about it yet.

 

And the fact alone that Yuuri is a professional pole dancer who actively competes!!

 

( _He’s shaken to his core._ )

 

“You’re perfect,” he breathes out, just as Yuuri is handing him the fork and knife. “Yuuri! I never knew you _competed too_! That’s— That’s _amazing_ , Yuuri! Wow! Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“It never came up,” Yuuri says, expression sheepish. “Would it’ve made a difference anyway?”

 

“It would’ve been nice to know,” Viktor says honestly. He twists in the barstool seat to look at Yuuri, lightly touching the small of his back. “I love learning things about you, Yuuri. I want to know more about you.”

 

“There’s not much to know.” Yuuri admits, glancing down at his plate. “Other than pole dancing and ballet, I’m rather plain. Boring.”

 

When something in Yuuri’s expression changes, Viktor’s stomach lurches. His smile falters. “Yuuri, of course you aren’t boring. I don’t think you’re boring.”

 

He reaches for Yuuri’s hand with his free arm, which had been resting on the countertop, lacing their fingers together. He takes comfort in the warmth and secretly hopes Yuuri does too, raising their intertwined hands to his lips and kissing the back of Yuuri’s hand. “I think you’re anything _but_ boring, Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri finally turns to look at him, warmth in his chocolate brown eyes, but expression unreadable nonetheless. He moves his fingers out of Viktor’s grasp so he’s cupping Viktor’s cheek. Viktor places his fingers atop Yuuri’s hand in return.

 

“You’re always so nice to me,” Yuuri says, softly stroking Viktor’s cheek.

 

Viktor leans in, and Yuuri does the same, his eyes half-mast. “Give me the chance to, and I’ll be good to you, Yuuri,” Viktor says, voice low and full of promise. Yuuri’s breath hitches in his throat.

 

Viktor’s heart is beating hard against his chest, and he feels lightheaded. Is this real life? Are they really having this conversation right now?

 

“Are you sure?” Yuuri asks, uncertainty lacing his tone.

 

“Yes,” Viktor breathes out, because it’s all he can manage to say. He’s so sure. He wants this. He wants this so bad, and he hopes Yuuri wants it too—

 

Yuuri curls his hand around Viktor’s nape and pulls him in for a heated kiss. Viktor lets out a soft groan, eagerly kissing Yuuri back. Yuuri draws back and they look at each other expectantly, neither daring to say a word.

 

Finally, Yuuri is the first one to break the tense silence that had fallen over them. “Okay.”

 

Before Viktor can fully process it, he’s out of his seat and wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s waist, kissing him over and over again. “Okay, okay, okay,” he whispers in between kisses, revelling in the warmth of Yuuri’s body pressed up against his. He gives Yuuri one last kiss before pulling away. “I’ll be so good to you, Yuuri. You won’t regret it.”

 

Yuuri can only nod in response, his cheeks flushed. “Okay.”

 

Viktor grins excitedly, taking his seat again before motioning to the syrniki. “Well? Let’s eat!”

 

He waits until Yuuri has taken a bite of the syrniki before he starts digging into his own plate, slicing off a piece and popping it into his mouth. He watches, enraptured, as Yuuri slowly chews his food, probably trying to take in all the new flavours.

 

“What do you think, _solnyshko_?” Viktor asks. “Does it taste good?”

 

Yuuri wordlessly nods, eating another forkful. Viktor smiles before focussing on his own food.

 

He’s trying the best he can not to openly squeal in front of the object of his affections. Fuck, he’s just so, so _happy_ he could cry.

 

* * *

 

When they finish having their breakfast, Yuuri leaves the dirty dishes in the sink to ‘soak’. Viktor flops down on the couch, and immediately stiffens when he realises he’s sat on something that wasn’t the couch. He reaches from underneath him and pulls a black PS4 controller out, setting it down onto the coffee table beside the rainbow glass bong pipe. Makkachin immediately curls up at Viktor’s feet, tail lightly thumping against the floor.

 

“What do you want to do now?” Yuuri asks him, reaching for the TV remote and opening it. Almost immediately, they see a Keeping Up With The Kardashians rerun playing on E! Yuuri goes through the channels to look for something else. “Phichit usually likes to watch this stuff.”

 

“What do you like to watch then, _solnyshko_?”

 

Yuuri shrugs. “Depends. Movies, I guess? Though I usually just game whenever the TV is free.” He motions to the PS4 console right beside the DVD player. “Yuri comes by sometimes and we game together.”

 

Viktor’s eyes widen in surprise. “Oh?”

 

“Yeah. He’s your cousin, right?”

 

Viktor smiles. “Mm, he is. You two are friends then?”

 

Yuuri’s expression turns sheepish. “I don’t know if that’s what Yuri thinks, but I do consider us friends, I guess? I’ve known him for a few years now.”

 

“I don’t get how I’ve never heard of you,” Viktor says, awed (and slightly disappointed). “How have we never met before?”

 

“Yuri talks about you all the time. Unless he has other cousins that anger him on a day-to-day basis?”

 

Viktor winces. “Nope. I’m the one and only cousin he ever complains about. Tough love.”

 

When Yuuri makes to sit on the couch, Viktor opens his arms, and Yuuri is more than content to crawl into them, half-lying down on Viktor.

 

“What does he say about me?” Viktor asks, because he _is_ curious about what Yuri has to say about him— and to _Yuuri_ of all people, oh god. “Unless it’s, like, gonna mentally scar me for the rest of my life. Like, the type you have war flashbacks about. That type of devastating. I don’t think I could handle that.”

 

“Then I got nothing,” Yuuri says, looking up at Viktor with that playful gleam in his eye.

 

Viktor feigns a hurt expression, pressing a hand to his heart. “Damn.”

 

They laugh, and Makkachin reacts to the sound of their laughter, rising up to his paws and standing on his hind-legs to place his paws on Yuuri’s leg.

 

“Hi Makkachin,” Yuuri greets, ruffling Makka’s fur. When Viktor reaches out to pet Makkachin, Makkachin automatically moves his head away so he could lick at Viktor’s hand.

 

“So what do you want to watch?” Yuuri asks again, looking at the shelf full with DVDs. “We also have Netflix.”

 

“Netflix and chill,” Viktor says, reaching down to give Yuuri’s butt a quick squeeze. Yuuri squirms away from Viktor’s touch, bursting into laughter. All Viktor can think about is how Amazing™ Yuuri’s butt feels in his hand. But then he soon realises  _Something Else™_.

 

“What’s this, Yuuri?” Viktor gasps, feigning a look of shock. He gives Yuuri’s butt another squeeze and Yuuri flees to the opposite end of the couch, downright _cackling_.

 

“No! No don’t—” Yuuri exclaims, raising his hands up.

 

When Viktor makes a move to get up, Yuuri flinches before laughing even harder. “Viktor, no!”

 

“Are you _ticklish_ , Yuuri?” Viktor continues, waggling his fingers about. “My, my…”

 

Before Viktor can get even closer to do something about it, Yuuri pulls a zebra-pattern throw pillow out from under him and downright _flings_ it at Viktor’s face. He uses the temporary distraction to scramble off the couch and to the middle of the room, still instinctively hunched over to protect his sides and stomach.

 

“So mean, Yuuri!” Viktor rubs at his face and pouts at him. “I didn’t even do anything!”

 

“But you _will_! I _saw_ you and your spirit fingers!”

 

Viktor snorts at that. “Me and my _what_?” He throws his hand over the back of the couch and waggles his fingers again. “You mean like _this_?”

 

Yuuri shrieks; lets out another bout of laughter. “Yes, like that! Stop that!”

 

Viktor bites his bottom lip then sits on the couch properly. “Okay, fine.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”

 

“Mhm! Now come here, _solnyshko_ ,” Viktor says, patting the space on the couch beside him. Instead, Makkachin takes this as his invitation since Viktor’s done this before, and hops onto the couch beside him.

 

“Okay, but first promise me,” Yuuri says, “Promise you won’t try and tickle me.”

 

“ _Seriously_? I won’t tickle you, now come _here_ , Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri shakes his head, adamant. “ _Promise me_ , Viktor.”

 

Viktor raises three fingers up. “I promise I won’t tickle you. Scout’s honour.”

 

He watches in amusement as Yuuri carefully treads back to the couch, never _not_ facing Viktor. It’s evident his anti-tickling defences are still up. Viktor pouts at him. “You have such little faith in me, Yuuri.”

 

“I can’t take any chances, I’m sorry,” Yuuri says, and when he finally deems Viktor of no threat, he lets out a deep sigh of relief, standing by the DVD shelf. “No, seriously, what do you want to watch?”

 

Viktor leans forward and hums, examining the DVDs carefully. Yuuri and Phichit had a rich collection of movies, ranging from the complete _Shrek_ movie series, all the way to a bevy of various _Disney_ films. “Hmm, how about _Cinderella_?”

 

“Okay.” Yuuri takes a moment to set up the DVD player, inserting the disk and letting the movie play.

 

“Whoa, there was a _Cinderella II_? And a third one? How come I didn’t know about this?” Viktor asks, leaning in closer to squint at the DVDs. Yuuri pulls them out of the shelf and hands them over to Viktor.

 

“They were straight-to-DVD, I think. I like the third one, especially.” Yuuri says, taking a seat beside Viktor.

 

“We can watch these after then!” Viktor chirps, setting them down on the coffee table. Yuuri reaches for the purple knit blanket set to the side of the couch and he spreads it over the both of them. Viktor pulls Yuuri in closer to his side and wraps an arm around his shoulders, leaning in to quickly peck Yuuri’s cheek.

 

They’re silent for a while, just watching the movie. Well, _Yuuri_ is watching the movie, but Viktor is distracted. He keeps on sneaking glances at Yuuri, and just trying to take in the fact that everything about this right now is _real_. It’s the realest thing he’s felt— it’s the realest thing he’s _had_ in the longest time.

 

He adjusts himself a bit so he can pull his arm back and hold Yuuri’s hand, their fingers intertwined on top of the blanket. He’s staring at their hands, when an idea strikes him.

 

He fishes his phone out of his pocket with his free hand, opening the camera and taking a picture of their hands, with Yuuri’s hand atop of his, warm and soft and inviting. Viktor uploads it on Instagram, simply captioning it ‘ **with him ❤️** ’.

 

* * *

 

Viktor is the first to wake up. It’s only when he wakes up when he realises he’s fallen asleep. As he rouses awake, he’s a bit disoriented and confused, but he soon remembers where he is and who he’s with. He’d wound up lying down on the couch somehow, in what was Makkachin’s spot. For some reason, Makkachin had migrated back to his original spot in front of the couch. Yuuri is sleeping on top of him, head resting on his chest, and Viktor’s arms securely wrapped around him. He can _feel_ the way Yuuri’s chest is rising up and down with each breath he takes. Viktor smiles softly, carefully moving a hand up so he could run his fingers through Yuuri’s soft dark hair.

 

He glances to the side and sees that the movie has already ended, music from the main menu playing on an endless loop. Viktor sighs, immediately glancing around for the remote— _any_ remote, really— without jostling Yuuri awake. He spots what _might_ be the DVD player remote on the coffee table, and it’s a long stretch in effort to reach it. He turns the DVD player off, inwardly relieved the music stopped looping around.

 

With nowhere else to go (and it’s not like he’d want to be anywhere else right now, anyway), he busies himself with playing with Yuuri’s hair, content with just being here with him. He could really get used to this. It just seems… so _easy_ to have such a morning routine with Yuuri. Or any kind of routine, really. With Yuuri, everything just seemed to fall into place so easily, it makes Viktor wonder if it’s actually real or merely a figment of his imagination.

 

Either way, he’s happy Yuuri gave him a chance. _Beyond_ happy, honestly. He wants to do his best to make Yuuri happy too; make him _feel_ the happiness he’s been feeling these past few days. _Convey_ his feelings for him somehow. He’s so excited for what’ll be in store for the both of them.

 

Eventually, Yuuri stirs awake. He raises his head up at Viktor for a moment before flopping back down, burying his face into Viktor’s chest.

 

“Good morning, _solnyshko_ ,” Viktor says, beaming at him.

 

An incoherent mumble. Viktor hums, rubbing soothing circles onto Yuuri’s back. “What was that, Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri grumbles into Viktor’s shirt, and Viktor has to actively try not to laugh because it tickles, but only kind of. Yuuri slowly lifts his head up again, eyes free from his glasses, and it takes Viktor’s breath away just looking at him.

 

“We fell asleep again,” Yuuri mumbles, looking like he could doze off any moment.

 

“Mm, we did! Did you have a good nap, _solnyshko_?”

 

Yuuri nods. “You’re a good pillow.”

 

Viktor laughs. “I guess I am. You’re a very good tummy warmer.” Then he remembers something and makes to sit up, searching for his phone on the couch. Yuuri sits up as well, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Say, Yuuri, what time is your practise today again? Hopefully we didn’t sleep for too long or anything.”

 

“S’at one-thirty.”

 

When Viktor finds his phone, he immediately presses the home button, relieved to find that it was only eleven AM. “Okay, good. We still have time for you to get ready.”

 

Yuuri hums in acknowledgement, reaching for the TV remote and turning it off as well. He sets the remote back down on the coffee table before turning to face him, stretching his arms out, and Viktor is more than content to meet him halfway, giving him a warm embrace. They stay like that for a moment, clinging onto each other.

 

When Viktor pulls back, he tilts Yuuri’s chin upwards and captures his lips in a tender kiss. Yuuri kisses him back with equal fervour, straddling Viktor’s lap, arms still wrapped around Viktor’s neck.

 

Viktor lets out a groan, enjoying Yuuri’s weight on his lap as he deepens the kiss, mouths automatically parting so their tongues can meet halfway. As Viktor pulls away, the string of saliva connecting them together snaps, and he can’t help but melt at how ravishing Yuuri looks, looking at him like this. The warmth in those eyes.

 

Before he realises it, he reaches up to wipe at the saliva pooling by Yuuri’s bottom lip with his thumb, feeling how soft Yuuri’s kiss-swollen lips are. Yuuri looks down at him through eyes half-mast, a pink tongue darting out to lap at the pad of Viktor’s thumb. Viktor lets out a deep exhale before pulling Yuuri back in so he could leave a trail of kisses and love bites down his neck.

 

Just as he’s about to nip at his skin, Yuuri firmly pushes him back, shaking his head. “No marks, Viktor. At least not until the competition is over.”

 

Viktor pouts at him. “Okay.”

 

Yuuri smiles, leaning down to peck Viktor’s lips. He raises a hand up, cupping Viktor’s neck. “If you want, I could…”

 

Viktor lets out a deep exhale, biting his bottom lip. “Fuck yes. You’re so good to me, Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri looks at him for a moment, expression undecipherable, before he noses at Viktor’s jaw, lapping at a spot on the side of Viktor’s neck, mixed in with a couple of kisses. When Yuuri finally nips at the skin, sucking slightly, Viktor downright _moans_ , because it’s the hottest thing ever to have Yuuri like this, sitting on his lap and intent on marking him.

 

All throughout, Yuuri runs his hands over Viktor’s muscled chest, down his torso, brushes his thumbs over Viktor’s nipples through the fabric of his shirt. Viktor involuntarily bucks his hips up, eliciting a moan from Yuuri, who hasn’t stopped his ministrations once. Yuuri grinds down on him in response, and Viktor grips Yuuri’s hips tightly.

 

“Fuck, Yuuri, come back here,” he slurs, bringing Yuuri’s face back up so they could kiss, heated yet tender, all in one. Yuuri slowly rocks against him, panting hotly as Viktor licked into Yuuri’s mouth. Viktor moans softly, grinding his hips back and forth, back and forth, all his senses overwhelmed with the friction between their slowly hardening cocks.

 

Without a second thought, Yuuri lifts the sweater over his head and tosses it to the side, letting out a desperate whine as he clung to Viktor like a lifeline. Viktor reaches around him and grabs two handfuls of Yuuri’s ass, hands sliding back up so he could thumb at the waistband of Yuuri’s sweatpants. He pulls away for a moment, looking at Yuuri. “Can I?”

 

Yuuri stills; for a moment, Viktor thinks he’s hesitating, and just as he’s about to tell Yuuri that it’s perfectly alright if he isn’t ready yet, Yuuri nods his assent.

 

Viktor knits his brows together, slightly doubtful. He doesn’t want to pressure Yuuri into doing anything he doesn’t want to, or to make him feel obligated to do something about it. “Are you _sure_?”

 

Yuuri nods again, kissing him softly. “I’m sure.”

 

Viktor lets out a deep exhale, and Yuuri sits up a bit, so Viktor can have better access. He slowly tugs Yuuri’s sweatpants down to his knees along with his boxers, the waistband catching around the top of his ass and down his thick thighs. Yuuri’s already hard.

 

Viktor gulps, his throat feeling dry all of a sudden.

 

Yuuri reaches down and grabs the front of Viktor’s pants, looking at him seriously. “Please?”

 

Viktor nods, automatically leaning up so he can undo his jeans easier. He pulls his cock out of the confines of his briefs, and when Yuuri catches sight of his dick, he lets out a loud moan. “Fuck, Viktor.”

 

Viktor reaches for Yuuri’s dick, thumbing at the bead of pre-come that had formed at the head, and Yuuri cants his hips forward, grinding their cocks together. Viktor’s mesmerised, not only by the sounds of Yuuri’s pleasure, but by the deep flush of red that went down from Yuuri’s torso, all the way to the tip of his pretty cock.

 

Without any lube nearby, Viktor substitutes with spit and their pre-come instead, trying to make it pleasurable for the both of them. They rutted against each other as Viktor fisted their cocks, slowly but steadily driving them towards the edge. Viktor lolls his tongue out, languidly lapping at Yuuri’s nipple while he uses his other hand to pinch and twist the dusty pink nipple until it’s hardened and swelling.

 

“Fuck,” Yuuri gasps out, face flushed a deep red, his mouth open and panting. “Fuck, _Viktor_.”

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor groans out, raking his teeth over Yuuri’s nipple and giving it a small nip, eliciting a high-pitched keen from Yuuri’s lips. “God, Yuuri, you’re amazing. You’re so fucking beautiful, baby.”

 

Yuuri arches his back, writhing in Viktor’s lap as Viktor closes his mouth over Yuuri’s nipple, sucking and shamelessly lapping at his skin. He eventually shakes his head, guiding Viktor’s head back up for an impassioned kiss, open-mouthed, all tongue.

 

“ _Please_ ,” Yuuri whispers against his lips, sounding so _wrecked_. “ _Please_ , I’m close, I’m so close—”

 

“I’ll take care of you, _solnyshko_ ,” Viktor kisses him again, before pulling away to lay Yuuri back down on the couch. Viktor tugs his jeans all the way down to his knees, tugging Yuuri’s sweatpants and boxers off. A bit too clothed for his liking, he pulls his shirt off as well, tossing it somewhere behind him.

 

For a moment, he’s speechless, trying to take in each and every inch of Yuuri’s body. Before he can explore Yuuri’s body any further, an impatient whine from Yuuri’s lips brings Viktor’s attention back to where it’s supposed to be. He hoists Yuuri’s leg up over his shoulder and spreads the other one over the back of the couch and he slots himself between Yuuri’s legs, this position giving them much better access to what they needed. He grabs hold of their cocks, rutting against him with renewed vigour, intent on getting the both of them off.

 

Yuuri’s moans start to rise in pitch as he clutches the armrest of the couch above his head. Viktor leans down and buries his face into the crook of Yuuri’s neck, savouring the feeling of Yuuri’s bare skin against his. Fuck, he’s _perfect_. He’s so fucking perfect.

 

He bites his bottom lip, already close to the edge of orgasm. Yuuri suddenly lets out a choked keen, hot cum spurting onto both their stomachs. Viktor groans at the sensation, driving him to his own orgasm as well. He rides both their orgasms out, pressing heated kisses all over Yuuri’s chest.

 

They lay there for a moment, Viktor in Yuuri’s arms, the both of them trying to catch their breaths. “That was amazing,” Viktor pants out, kissing Yuuri’s jaw.

 

“Yeah,” Yuuri rasps out, glancing down at him with a tired smile on his face. “We should probably clean up.”

 

“Mm, we probably should,” Viktor hums, still not moving.

 

“I still have practise later,” Yuuri says, firmly placing his hands on Viktor’s shoulders. “Come on, get up.”

 

Viktor groans, sitting up anyway. Yuuri stands up on wobbly feet, padding over to the kitchen for a roll of all-purpose tissue. Of course, Viktor sees this as the perfect opportunity to ogle at Yuuri’s Amazing Ass™. He clutches a hand to his chest, honest-to-god _shook_ as Yuuri’s ass bounces in reverse-gravity with each step he takes. Unreal. It’s even more amazing when he doesn’t have any clothes on. He lets out a dreamy sigh.

 

Yuuri pulls a couple of tissues out, wiping his stomach down. “Don’t look at me, I can feel you staring.” Yuuri says, frowning at Viktor.

 

“But you’re beautiful,” Viktor says, “I like looking at you.”

 

Yuuri pauses, his face flushing a vibrant red. He licks his lips and squints at Viktor in mock suspicion. “Me or at my butt?”

 

Viktor winks at him. “Both.”

 

Yuuri rolls his eyes, handing the roll of tissues over to Viktor. He collects his clothes from where they’re strewn on floor into his arms. “Okay, so there’s a bathroom over there if you wanna wash up,” he says, motioning to a door in the back of the room near the stairs, “I’ll just take a shower and get ready.”

 

Already, Viktor can feel the words forming on the tip of his tongue. He sends Yuuri a cheeky grin. “What, without me?”

 

Yuuri stares at him blankly before making his way upstairs without another word.

 

“I’m sorry!” Viktor exclaims anyway, hoping Yuuri still heard it. He flops back onto the couch, just as Makka is rousing awake, only to move from lying on his stomach to curling up on his side. He can’t stop smiling, even if he wanted to. He grabs a couple of tissues and wipes most of the come off his stomach in one go, already used to the motions. After that, he tucks himself back into his pants and heads to the bathroom, flicking the light switch on.

 

Immediately, he’s hit with a sense of déjà vu. This bathroom looks so _familiar_. He’s seen this bathroom before. He’s sure of it! Viktor furrows his brows, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He finds himself in front of the marble countertop and sink with its large mirror, and Viktor instantly recalls just exactly _where_ he’s seen it before.

 

It was in one of Yuuri’s mirror selfies on Twitter. He was half-seated on this exact same counter so he could show off his ripped skinny jeans with roses embroidered on the back pockets. And, _yes_ , Viktor _did_ get his cyber-sleuth on and went through Yuuri’s Twitter, but mainly out of curiosity at first. He spent a huge chunk of his night just going through Yuuri’s tweets after he’d followed him last night. Yuuri hadn’t been active in a long time, it seemed, since his last tweet was more than half a year ago. But before that, he seemed really active on Twitter.

 

Honestly, going through someone’s tweets can tell you a lot about a person, and even though Yuuri’s twitter wasn’t even set to private or anything, Viktor felt like he was intruding on a part of Yuuri’s life that had accidentally been made privy to him without Yuuri's consent.

 

On Twitter, he was known as Eros, and not Yuuri. His Paypal account was linked in his Twitter bio, along with other modes of payment, like Circle Pay and Google Wallet. The first tweet pinned to the top of the page was a selfie video of Yuuri in Lilia’s studio with the date stamped on it, for verification purposes.

 

Out of the desire to know more, Viktor skimmed through Yuuri’s tweets, coming across a lot of selfies bordering on the more risqué side, showing flashes of skin through crop tops or lavish faux fur coats. In his photos, though, Yuuri had never explicitly asked or told anyone to send him money, but with the way he worded some things out, it was definitely implied.

 

Viktor suspected it then, back when Yuuri got a text from that POT, but now he was pretty sure Yuuri had been a sugar baby at some point, or something along those lines. It made sense, especially with Phichit’s tweets from last night.

 

But knowing all this didn’t make him feel like he knew Yuuri any better. If anything, it served to remind him just how little he knew about Yuuri, and how much he had yet to learn about him. He wanted to change that soon, hopefully.

 

He’ll have to do the same, after all. He can’t keep Yuuri in the dark regarding his job forever— especially if they’re really going to do this. They’ll have to get on the same page at some point.

 

And when Yuuri opens up to him, Viktor will gladly meet him halfway.

 

* * *

 

Within half an hour, they’re both cleaned up and ready to go. Viktor waits for Yuuri in his car, Makkachin sitting beside him. When Yuuri finishes locking the front door, he jogs down the steps and gets into Viktor’s car, leaving his gym bag in the backseat of the car. Viktor automatically starts the engine, clipping his seatbelt in place.

 

Yuuri does the same before placing a hand on Makkachin’s back, frowning at Viktor. “What about Makkachin? Does he have a seatbelt? Will he be alright?”

 

“He’ll be fine, Yuuri,” Viktor says easily, giving Yuuri a reassuring smile. He pulls out onto the road and makes a U-turn to exit the quiet neighbourhood. “He _loves_ car rides, except unless it’s to go to the vet. He has some weird sixth sense about that for some reason. Anyway, it’s his next favourite thing after walks.”

 

“So you weren’t kidding about that one, huh?”

 

Viktor shakes his head. “Nope! Maybe we can go to the beach together with Makkachin! Next time you’re free. It’ll be fun!”

 

A soft smile finds its way onto Yuuri’s lips. “That sounds nice. Yeah, I’d like that.”

 

“So I was thinking…” Viktor drawls, prompting Yuuri to send him a curious look. “What if I went to Las Vegas with you next week? I want to support you. Would that be alright?”

 

He worries on his bottom lip, Yuuri completely silent as he mulls over it.

 

“Isn’t it too sudden?” Yuuri asks, “Can you really just drop everything like that? What about Makkachin?”

 

“I can ask Chris to take care of him for the meantime. He’ll understand.”

 

Yuuri ensconces himself further in his seat, still looking doubtful.

 

Viktor sighs. “Look, it’s not like I’ll be dropping everything just like that. That’s why I’m asking right now, in advance, so I can deal with what needs to be done and travel without any problems or issues next week. But I understand if it’s too soon.”

 

Without taking his eyes off the road, he reaches over and finds Yuuri’s hand, giving it a squeeze. Yuuri squeezes his hand back. They drive in silence for a while, soon approaching the area where Lilia’s dance studio is.

 

Eventually, Viktor pulls up in front of the building that had now become a familiar sight to him, pulling his hand away from Yuuri’s so he could park the car properly. He automatically reaches over for Yuuri’s bag and hands it to him. Yuuri clutches the bag to his chest, turning to look at Viktor with wide eyes. Viktor quirks his brow up in bemusement, tilting his head to the side. “ _Solnyshko_?”

 

Yuuri shakes his head, as if dismissing a train of thought. “I just… I guess it’s okay if you want to come with me, but our plane tickets were booked in advanced, so I’m not sure if we’ll even be on the same flight. I can give you the flight details if you want. Same goes for the hotel booking, but I have a room to myself, so I guess you can stay with me?”

 

Viktor smiles at him. “Of course I’d want to stay with you. So you’re sure I can go? Are you okay with it? Because once I get home, I’m definitely booking a flight to Vegas.”

 

Yuuri nods. “Yeah, I’ll just text you the details— Wait. I don’t have your number.” He fishes his phone out of the side pocket of his bag, unlocking it and handing it over to Viktor. “Can I..?”

 

“Of course,” Viktor says, taking the phone and typing his number in. He saves it as ‘Viktor ❤️❤️❤️ Nikiforov’ and hands it back to Yuuri.

 

Yuuri’s face lights up when he sees the hearts, and he smiles up at him. “Thanks. I’ll text you the details later. Also… thank you for today, in general. For making sure I was okay.”

 

He leans in the best he could with Makka in between them, and Viktor closes the gap between them, capturing Yuuri’s lips in a kiss. When he pulls away, Yuuri’s reaching for the door and getting out of the car.

 

“I’ll text you,” Viktor says, grinning at him. “Have fun at practise, _solnyshko_!”

 

Yuuri waves at him before turning to head inside the studio. Viktor grins at Makkachin, who’s just chilling out. Makkachin’s ears quirk up with interest, knowing his human’s attention is on him. “Wanna go to the dog park, Makkachin?”

 

Makkachin flips 180° and he tackles Viktor in his seat, tail wagging excitedly. As the poodle peppers his face with licks, Viktor’s glad to know he’d gotten his answers in more ways than one.

 

He feels happy. Happier than he’d been in a long time, honestly. They’d just need to give it a bit more time.

 

What they have could be something true; something so beautiful. He just knows it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> henlo sorry for the delay! after my internship i had really shitty burn out n lost the will to function or do anything for a few weeks lol
> 
> thank u for being so patient! and i wanted to thank u guys for being so kind! i really love and enjoy reading all your comments. also 1.2k kudos omg ksdjnfkjsnf ily!!
> 
> i'd love to know what u think about this chapter! i was gonna say smth else but i forgot so nvm lol
> 
> fan art by [@bullsfish](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bullsfish/pseuds/Bullsfish) [here](https://bullsfish.tumblr.com/post/160912293319/victor-is-thirsty-af-for-yuuri-sex-on-legs-katsuki) ❤️
> 
> tumblr: [ragdollyouth](http://ragdollyouth.tumblr.com/)  
> twitter: [@katsukidon_](https://twitter.com/katsukidon_)


	11. eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under the dim lights of the nightclub, Viktor finds himself face-to-face with the full force of Yuuri’s eros.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Please listen to Eros’ music when you see the link. It’ll make it 1000x much better ❤️ Also, please keep work skin on!
> 
> And since it’s been some time since Yuuri’s met Viktor, I highly suggest giving the lyrics for Eros’ performances a more thorough listen from here on out [eyes emoji]
> 
> -
> 
> Quick recap of ch 10:  
> \- Viktor visits Yuuri's house for the first time! They make syrniki together  
> \- Viktor asks Yuuri if Yuuri would allow Viktor to treat him right and Yuuri says 'yes'  
> \- Viktor asks Yuuri if he could come with him to Yuuri's pole competition in Las Vegas and Yuuri also says 'yes'  
> \- FINALLY Viktor gets Yuuri's number  
> \- Yuuri hates being tickled  
> \- s p i c e [fire emoji]

It’s a sunny Friday morning when Viktor finds himself in front of Netflixxx Studios. It’s the longest he’s ever gone since he last saw Yakov in, what, over a decade now? He glances up at the building, the structure several stories tall and painted a pristine white stucco, with bright red paint accenting the columns. The windows are all tinted black for privacy and to prevent the sun’s heat from entering the building. A golden ‘Feltsman Productions’ sign hangs just above the entrance. If you walked past this building, you never would’ve guessed there’d be people going in and out to film porn, but hey! For the longest time, this studio was like a second home to him.

 

Viktor’s been away from the studio long enough that he actually feels a distinct sense of nostalgia just looking at it. _Wild_. It’s kind of surreal, really, just being back here again. It hasn’t been long at all, but with everything that’s been going on, it’s like he’s lost track of time. Anyways, he’s just here to drop off his medical exam results, and maybe catch up with Yakov and the others while he’s at it, see what they’ve been up to in his absence.

 

One of the things that set Yakov’s studio apart from the others is the consistent and rigorous STD testing and medical exams for all the pornstars, no matter what type or category of porn they specialised in. It was standardised for all of them as long as they worked at the studio. Some studios aren’t like that, though. They tend to be more laissez-faire when it comes to medical exam results, especially if they film both straight and gay porn (as it’s a little bit harder to keep up with). But Yakov had been insistent it was important. After the fiasco with Geena Lovely, who worked at a different studio in Florida, Yakov became absolutely _adamant_ there be consistent testing for actors who weren’t even filming all the time (or, in Viktor’s case right now, at _all_ ).

 

He makes his way past the front desk, where he flashes the receptionist a quick smile before heading towards the elevators. He waits for a few moments for the elevator to come down, and the metal doors slowly open to reveal Holly and Dina, a pair of beautiful leggy blondes he’s filmed a threesome series with before. He played their new next-door neighbour, while they were twins. Admittedly, there were several occasions where they had their own threesomes off-camera. Just for fun, is all.

 

“Hi Vitya!” Dina greets, the both of them exiting the elevator.

 

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Holly comments, leaning back on her heels and examining him carefully.

 

Viktor makes a show of splaying his hands out, palms facing upwards. “Ladies, it’s great to see you!” he greets with a playful wink. “I’d love to catch up but I really gotta go.”

 

They giggle as he gives them a small wave goodbye.

 

He makes his way to the very top floor, where Yakov’s office is and lets out a content sigh. So much has changed in the span of, what, roughly half a month? He’s changed as an individual, at least. Viktor feels happier now. Lighter.

 

He never knew how much he needed some time off until he finally decided to ask Yakov for a break. Of course, Viktor wasn’t obligated to film _all_ the time, or even everyday. Most of the pornstars in Netflixxx Studios’ roster only filmed several times a month. But he himself had chosen to work as often as he did. That was entirely his discretion. In every sense of the word, he was a workaholic. He spent everyday filming in Yakov’s studio, and when he wasn’t filming there, he was busy camming or making cameos in other studios’ films. There’s quite a number of videos of himself featured on sites like PornHub and YouPorn. With how much he’s filmed around the clock, it was no wonder he’d managed to burn himself out.

 

When he gets to the top floor, Viktor makes his way down the hallway, the very routine familiar to him. Normally, the other actors would give their medical results to the Human Resources Department a few floors down, but since Viktor’s personally managed by Yakov, he turns his medical exam results in to him instead.

 

He opens the door to Yakov’s office, belatedly realising he’d forgotten to knock. Again. He always forgets to knock, for some reason. When Yakov catches sight of him, silvery hair peeking in through the doorway, he sighs, motioning for Viktor to come in and take a seat. “I should’ve known it was you.”

 

“Hi Yakov!” Viktor chirps, plopping down on a plush leather chair as he places a large brown envelope on top of Yakov’s desk, sliding it over to him. “Here are the test results. I tested negative, as usual. All parts seem to be working in order.”

 

“Good,” Yakov says, reaching for the envelope and pulling the papers out anyway. He casts a quick glance at Viktor over the top of the page. “How have you been, Vitya?”

 

“I— I’ve been good, I’ve been great!” Viktor exclaims, beaming at him. He glances down at his hands on his lap and clasps them together. He licks his lips in thought before looking back up at Yakov. “I think I really needed this break. So thank you, Yakov. For that.”

 

“I’m glad it’s helping you,” Yakov says, and after a thorough scan of the papers, he sets them back down on his desk, straightening them as he does so. He studies Viktor carefully. “And how are your lessons with Eros going?”

 

Unable to help himself, Viktor lets out a lovestruck sigh. “ _Amazing_.”

 

Yakov lets out a deep, long-suffering exhale when he sees the moony expression on Viktor’s face. He knows this look. He _knows_ this look. He’s seen it a million times before, and chances are, he’ll see it a million times more. Viktor is no Georgi Popovich by far, but there are times when he comes pretty damn close. Really, this man’s infatuations change like the tide!

 

“Vitya,” Yakov starts, reaching for his phone and opening up his texts. He’s been talking to Lilia ~~for the first time in months~~ just to check up on how Viktor’s been doing, since he seemed to be in a really bad place when he’d requested some time off. As it turns out, Viktor’s been ‘hanging out’ with his pole dance instructor outside of lessons lately, so Yakov’s been starting to have his doubts as to whether or not Viktor was taking the lessons seriously. But at the same time, he’s not surprised. He probably should have expected it. “You know, when I signed you up for these lessons, I actually expected you to learn something from it.”

 

Viktor furrows his brows in confusion. “But I am?”

 

Yakov doesn’t even bother arguing back, slowly shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I would _hope_ so. Anyways, did you get those emails I sent you a few days ago?”

 

“Yeah, I did.” Viktor leans back in his seat, rubbing his nape. “I already went through most of the scripts, so I should be good to go by the time my lessons are done.”

 

“Good, good.”

 

Viktor makes a move to get up but he hesitates at the last second, a hand still on the arm of the chair. He licks his lips. “Yakov, I— Really. Thank you.”

 

Yakov leans in his seat, studying Vitya carefully. After a brief moment of silence, he speaks. “Vitya— and I need you to listen carefully, because I want you to understand. You taking a break was never up to me. It was always up to you. You always had the tendency to keep yourself busy, so I thought you preferred it that way. I thought it was what you wanted. Apparently not.”

 

Viktor mulls over Yakov’s words, and yeah, he can see where Yakov is coming from crystal clear. After all, he himself had initially thought the same, right? And he thought he was _happy_ , or at least, _content_ with the way things were. Perhaps, for a time, he genuinely was. That is, until he wasn’t. Funny how things like that can change without a warning.

 

“I think at one point I did want that too,” Viktor says, expression pensive. “I don’t know, like, _maybe_ I just worked too much, I eventually burned out.” His smile turns a little wry. “After ten years, I suppose it was bound to happen at some point.”

 

Especially in an industry where an average pornstar’s career would last six to eight months, Vitya was also known as a modern-day living legend because he had always been a constant in the industry in a way, and even then, he was still young.

 

They stay silent for a while; a pause just to let the conversation sink in. In all the years Yakov has known Vitya, these sombre moments between them were often few and far in-between, though that didn’t mean they meant any less. But the thing about it was that whenever it _did_ happen, none of them knew what to do or say afterwards. So yeah… It’s a work in progress.

 

Viktor is the first to break the silence that had fallen over them, clapping his hands on his lap and rising to his feet. He plasters a smile onto his face, looking slightly sheepish. “I guess I should get going now.”

 

Yakov nods. “You take care of yourself, Vitya.”

 

“I will, I will,” Viktor says, already making his way out of Yakov’s office.

 

 _I’m learning how to,_ he thinks.

 

* * *

 

After talking to Yakov, even if it was brief, Viktor feels like a weight had been somehow lifted off of his chest. It’s— It’s _nice_ to have someone to confide in, even if it was something that may have been apparent in the eyes of others all along. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it sooner, given all the hours he’d spent in front of the camera. Like, maybe a part of him didn’t want to acknowledge it as a possibility, or, more likely, he’d thought that in busying himself in his work, he’d learn how to love and enjoy his job again.

 

He makes his way several floors down to the fourth floor, to where just _some_ of the sets in the studio are. The moment the elevator doors open, he immediately picks up on the familiar, heady scent of sex and sweat. Chris and Mila are here, filming on the same floor but not in the same video. Viktor checks his phone for a moment and decides to visit Chris first.

 

When he opens the door, the rest of the set is dark save for the lights focussed on the makeshift massage parlour. The smell of sex is stronger now, more concentrated. One of the cameramen behind the magnum dolly turns to look at him, a look of recognition passing his face, but he returns his attention to filming straight after.

 

The director follows suit and casts a glance at Viktor, raising a finger to his lips to signal Viktor to keep quiet. Viktor nods in acknowledgement, gently closing the door behind him.

 

He makes his way into the room, footfalls silent, and he can see Emil and Chris lying on top of the white spa bed, soaked with massage oil and revealing the blue mattress underneath. Chris is lying on his stomach, his face buried into the foam ring at the head of the massage bed. In one of the monitors, Viktor can see Chris’ face scrunching up as he lets out breathy moans as Emil carefully fucks him open with his fingers, rimming his ass at the same time.

 

“Is this part of the massage?” Chris gasps out, “Not that I’m complaining.”

 

Emil quickly slaps Chris’ ass in response, who lets out a loud moan in return before fucking himself back onto Emil’s fingers.

 

Meanwhile, Viktor stands behind the director and glances at the clipboard over his shoulder, eyeing the rest of the positions and scenes they’d be doing. ‘ **CZECH SPA MASSAGE: ASS MAN GETS FUCKED BY MASSEUR WITH BIG COCK** ’ is printed at the very top of the page. It seems like they’ve just started and they’re far from finished, so Viktor casts one last glance at the both of them before exiting the room to visit Mila instead.

 

As soon as Viktor exits the room, everything is quiet in the hallway again. All of the sets in Yakov’s studio were soundproofed so nothing would interfere with the audio. He makes his way a bit further down the hall, and as soon as he opens the door, loud moaning spills out into the hall. He quickly gets in and closes the door behind him. In a way, he feels like the ghost, flittering in and out of rooms filled with people having sex.

 

Mila and Sara are on top of the bed, the bed frame creaking as Mila fucks Sara with a thick jelly dildo, Sara holding Mila close and running a hand up and down Mila’s chest as they languidly make out. Sara’s hand is also further down, deft touches along Mila’s clit bringing the both of them to the very edge as the sounds of their pleasure rise in pitch.

 

As they both reach their orgasm, they take a few minutes to catch their breath. Mila slowly pulls the dildo out of Sara and tosses it to the side before she cups Sara’s face with both of her hands, sharing open-mouthed kisses that mainly consist of brushing their lips together. They’re both covered in cum lube, and Mila smiles at the very end, just as the cameras stop rolling. Viktor can’t help but find it endearing, in a way, since he knew Mila was _very_ interested in Sara, and she had been for quite some time. Sara’s back was turned to him, so he couldn’t see her reaction.

 

Not long after, an assistant immediately approaches the both of them with their robes and a pack of baby wipes so they can wipe themselves down. Mila pulls her baby blue silk robe on and smiles at Viktor when she sees him, giving a small wave in greeting.

 

“Hi,” Mila says, voice slightly raspy. Viktor grabs a bottle of water from one of the coolers and hands it to her. She smiles at him gratefully before twisting the cap open and downing half the bottle in mere seconds.

 

“Thirsty?” Viktor remarks, tone playful.

 

She winks back at him, before turning to look at Sara, who’s busy talking to one of the assistants in the other side of the room. “Don’t you know it. God, she’s so beautiful. I am so gay.”

 

“I know the feeling.” Viktor comments. “D’you wanna grab some lunch together so we can catch up?”

 

Mila turns to face him, a smile on her kiss-swollen lips. “Yeah, sure.”

 

Automatically, they make their way out of the room, Mila giving Sara a wave and a quick goodbye. “What about Chris? Is he done filming yet?”

 

“Not quite. He’s still busy filming with Emil and last I saw, they were only a few scenes in.”

 

“Damn, that sucks. But you got to see him recently anyway, right?”

 

When they get in the elevator to go to Mila’s dressing room two floors up, she leans against the wall, head pressed up against the full-sized mirror. “My legs are still shaking. Which is, like, amazing. _She’s_ amazing.”

 

“Did you ask her out yet?”

 

“Hmm. Not yet. I still think it’s too soon. Like, I’m not sure if she’s _into me_ , into me, or if it’s just when we film together.”

 

“Yeah, well, asking her out usually helps with discerning that,” Viktor deadpans, but his expression is warm.

 

She finally turns to look at him, and a sly grin makes its way on her face. “And you?”

 

Viktor bites his bottom lip, unable to keep the smile from spreading across his cheeks. He knows what (or _who_ , rather) she’s talking about and he _loves it_. “What about me?”

 

She gives him a playful shove. “What about you and lover boy?”

 

And, really, that’s all Viktor needs as his go-signal. He absolutely _beams_ and flushes a light red. He lets out a laugh, feeling his heart race at the very thought of Yuuri. The elevator doors open and they head to Mila’s dressing room, which she shares with Alexa.

 

“Things are _great_ ,” he says, feeling a little breathless. “I mean, like, I _think_ they are. I’m not gonna lie, though, there are still some things we need to talk about soon. But we’ll get there. I know it.”

 

“Yuuri, right?” Mila clarifies, “You really like him, don’t you?”

 

“I do,” Viktor says, taking a seat on a couch tucked to the side. “And yeah, his name is Yuuri. Chris knows him, by the way.”

 

She ducks behind one of the wooden dividers and her blue silk robe is haphazardly tossed over the top of it. “Somehow I’m not surprised. I’m pretty sure Chris knows everyone we could ever meet. He’s got the Connections™, after all.”

 

Viktor pauses to think of all the people Chris probably knows in this city alone and he laughs. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

 

Mila walks into view, a white towel draped around her body, and she steps into the en suite. “Just give me five minutes tops!”

 

Viktor waves her off. “Sure, sure.”

 

Not long after the door closes behind her, he hears the shower running. He sighs, checking his phone for the umpteenth time that day. No reply from Yuuri yet— last he heard from him was earlier this morning, before Yuuri had his ballet class. He’s probably busy rehearsing right now. They’re supposed to have lessons every Friday, but since Yuuri was preoccupied with the preparation for his competition next week, Viktor agreed to move their next class to the Friday after this. Yuuri made sure Viktor could just come during his regular time slot and rehearse if he wanted to though.

 

He shoots Yuuri a text anyway.

 

Solnyshko❤️❤️❤️  
  
**Today** 9:17 AM   
You take care today!  
  
I will, ttyl!  
  
[kissy-face emoji][kissy-face emoji]  
  
**Today** 11:23 AM   
I miss you ❤️ How's rehearsal going?

Like the smitten man he is, he goes through his previous texts with Yuuri with a lovesick smile on his face. Eventually he scrolls back down and closes his phone screen. He leans back into the couch and glances around the room. There are different costumes and props everywhere, drawers filled with all sorts of pornographic paraphernalia. He sees a few toys he recognises as Mila’s on top of her dressing table, like the Bad Dragon strap-on and the ovipositor dildo that were recently sent to her. They’ve probably been cleaned recently.

 

There are splashes of lace and leather around the room, the singular best combination of naughty and nice. Over a coat rack, Viktor sees a twist of pink shibari rope and a red leather whip coiled up and hung over one of the hooks. There’s an unassuming paisley scarf draped over Alexa’s chair, and he vaguely recognises it from one of the videos they’ve filmed together. ‘ **VITYA BREEDS BUSTY BLOND CUM SLUT IN THE FOREST** ’ is still in the top 50 hottest videos on Netflixxx’s site.

 

After a few minutes of waiting around, Mila finally exits the en suite, dressed in a fit tank top and skinny jeans. She has the same towel in her hair, the curls a darker shade of red and dripping droplets of water onto the floor with every minute movement she makes.

 

“I didn’t take too long, did I?” she asks, walking over to her dresser and plugging her hairdryer in. The whir of the hairdryer nearly overpowers the sound of Viktor’s voice.

 

“No, not at all.”

 

She dries her hair for a few more seconds before glancing at Viktor, then to Alexa’s empty chair. “I remember when I first came here, you and Alexa were dating.”

 

“Well, to be fair, it was only one date. She’s dating that Brandon guy now, right? From,” he pauses, falters as he tries to rack his mind for the right studio. “Oh, right. RedTube.”

 

Mila nods. “Yep.”

 

“And I have Yuuri now,” Viktor adds, voice firm.

 

“So you told him?” Mila asks.

 

“Told him what?” Viktor replies.

 

“You know,” Mila says, making a vague gesture with her free hand. “Like, have you told him you’re a pornstar yet? What did he say? Come on, I need the details!”

 

Viktor winces. Ah. “Well. About that…”

 

Mila looks at him, mouth agape as they stare at each other in silence. “No way. _No way!_ You still haven’t told him yet?!”

 

Viktor shrugs his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, I haven’t, but— I don’t know, like, the right timing just hasn’t come up yet.”

 

“You know the longer you wait, the less likely the ‘right timing’ will ever come,” Mila points out, frowning at him.

 

Viktor raises his hands in defeat. “I know, I know.”

 

Once she’s done drying her hair, she unplugs her hairdryer and reaches for her handbag. “Let’s go?”

 

Viktor nods, rising up to his feet.

 

“You have to tell him soon,” Mila says, which Viktor already _knows_. He _knows_ he should tell Yuuri, but at the same time, despite the urgency of it all, he didn’t want to risk what he had. He didn’t want to risk this, this beautiful, _beautiful_ thing he has with Yuuri, on the off chance Yuuri wouldn’t want to be with him anymore.

 

Viktor knows he’s better off dating other sex workers, or people who already know he’s a sex worker. But with Yuuri, despite knowing he had been a sugar baby at some point in his life, Viktor didn’t know what to expect when it came to how Yuuri would react. Plus it was a complex thing, being a sugar baby. Like, sure, they had arrangements and all. Money was involved, but they weren’t exactly sex workers. For a long time, it had been up to debate and personal interpretation of what makes one a sex worker. But still, when it came to sugaring, there was that level of personal and emotional involvement. Meanwhile, when it came to porn, it was strictly business. Viktor knows where to draw the line when it comes to filming with others; he’s a professional, after all. The living legend of modern-day porn, at that!

 

Despite knowing Yuuri had been a sugar baby and despite knowing he hadn’t been in the sugar bowl for a while, in the end Viktor doesn’t know for sure what’ll happen when he finally does tell Yuuri. Would Yuuri get upset? Would he think that Viktor had been purposely hiding it from him? Would he think Viktor had been deceiving him?

 

Viktor has no idea where the metaphorical ball is going to drop, and he _hates_ it.

 

“I know I do,” Viktor finally admits, “I just— I literally have no idea how to go about it.”

 

She nods, and they take a moment to step in the elevator going all the way down to the ground floor. Mila hums in thought before asking him, “Why don’t you tell him what you told your previous partners then? Like ‘hey, I know we’ve been seeing each other recently, and I just wanted to let you know before we get any serious that I film porn for a living’.”

 

Viktor is rendered speechless before he bursts out laughing. “Ah, well, it’ll get the job done for sure. But if I say it like _that_ , then I don’t know for sure how he’ll take it.”

 

“Oh? Then what makes him different?”

 

Together, they step out of the elevator and walk out of the building, the sun high up in the sky now. Viktor shoves his hands into his pockets and squints at the sudden influx of sunlight, shrugging his shoulders in response. They don’t talk for a few moments as they make their way to the restaurant down the block they often frequented, Mila giving him some time to work through his thoughts. And honestly, right off the bat, he didn’t know the exact reason why himself.

 

What _did_ make Yuuri different from everyone else he’s dated? He thinks back to Yuuri’s past performances at Kachu’s Cabaret, the way he became music personified when he moved, the perfect embodiment of the line between innocence and innate sensuality, drawn from the very depths of his core.

 

Now, he won’t deny that it was Yuuri’s attractiveness that had caught his eye right off the bat. But there just had to be something, something _more_ that made a part of him afraid to fuck this up.

 

He thinks of their first date together, how Yuuri had been so open yet so closed off. A paradox, beautiful and devastating all the same. When Yuuri had, quite literally, danced into his life, he brought about with him a range of emotions Viktor never thought he could feel again, and with such a burning bright _intensity_ , it left Viktor feeling breathless in the best possible way.

 

In the end, perhaps, he couldn’t exactly specify _what_ made Yuuri different. It was the fact that he just _was_.

 

He’s finally brought out of his thoughts when Mila grabs him by the elbow to guide him into the restaurant, belatedly realising he’d spaced out on Mila and never got to answer her at all. He’d have brought it up, but then he realised it’d be Too Late™ to talk about it now, so that means he’d have to wait for Mila to bring it up again or else it’d be awkward for the both of them.

 

The maître d’ ushers them to an empty table by the window, the area itself spacious and brightly lit with natural sunlight. Another waiter comes and sets two menus in front of them, and Mila busies herself with it despite always ordering the same thing whenever she comes here.

 

“You know,” Mila pipes up, still looking at the leather-bound menu, “If everything _does_ work out between you two after you tell him, I’d love to meet him sometime.”

 

Without missing a beat, Viktor fumbles for his phone and unlocks it, immediately going to his pictures. “Here, let me show you a photo of him, he’s absolutely _gorgeous_ —”

 

The smile on his face slowly fades when he realises the only pictures he has of Yuuri is one of the kid’s menu pancakes Yuuri ordered for them, and when he was at Yuuri’s house, their hands intertwined over the knit blanket. How can he not have any pictures of Yuuri? That’s _impossible_. But he continues scrolling up and down his album anyway, and amidst pictures of Makkachin eating a chew and sleeping beside Viktor, there are no pictures of Yuuri at all.

 

He’ll have to change that soon. Viktor takes a moment to mentally berate himself for not even bothering to at _least_ take one (1) selfie with Yuuri, despite majority of his day consisting posting selfies on Snapchat. But the thing is, it isn’t because he didn’t want to, or anything ridiculous like that. It’s because whenever he actually _did_ spend time with Yuuri, it’s like everything else would just fade away. It’s fun being with Yuuri and Viktor didn’t want to waste a moment looking away, even if it was to take a picture of him. Like the old saying goes, time really does fly when you’re having fun. He supposes it’s better than taking a hundred dog filter selfies with his date because he’s bored.

 

Viktor sighs and pulls up his Twitter app, going to the search bar and his fingers automatically typing up Yuuri’s username. He swipes over to the Media tab and goes through Yuuri’s selfies. Yuuri looks absolutely _stunning_ in each and every one of them, which makes it a bit hard for Viktor to choose which one to show Mila. After scrolling back and forth a few times, he eventually chooses a selfie Yuuri took, with lips glossy with shimmery cinnamon lipgloss and chocolate brown eyes half-mast as the sunlight illuminated the highlighter on his cheekbones, nose and cupid’s bow. His hair is slicked back, a few stray black strands falling over his eyes, and there are flecks of amber and gold in his eyes.

 

He looks beautiful, as always, and for a moment, Viktor’s so caught up looking at Yuuri he nearly forgets why he opened Yuuri’s twitter up in the first place. “Here,” Viktor says, showing Mila his phone. “Isn’t he gorgeous? I look at him and I feel like my heart is about to burst. But, like, in a _good_ way.”

 

Mila takes the phone out of Viktor’s hand, scooting closer to the table so they can lean in and look at the photo together. “Ooh, you’re right, he’s cute.”

 

“ _V_ _ery_ cute,” Viktor says.

 

“Yeah, he’s very cute,” Mila amends.

 

She taps on the screen twice to zoom in, slowly going over Yuuri’s cheeks and across his nose. “His skin is, like, _flawless_. Like I literally don’t see any pores.”

 

“That’s because he’s perfect, Mila,” Viktor says, leaning in to take a closer look-see at the phone anyway because he’s never really thought about Yuuri’s skin texture before. It’s such a weirdly specific thing to notice.

 

Then, without any prompting at all, she double-taps to zoom out and automatically starts scrolling through Yuuri’s selfies.

 

“Oh, so this is his twitter?” She lets out a whistle when she scrolls to a photo of Yuuri in a black tube top with ‘Daddy’ embroidered on it, along with a thick leather collar. “For real though, his pictures are so Instagram-worthy. How do people take selfies like these? Teach me your ways, Yuuri.”

 

They share a laugh, only managing to put the phone down when a waiter comes to take their order. Once they’ve rattled off their orders, the waiter is off, both menus tucked under his arm. Mila sighs, turning to look at Viktor with a soft smile.

 

“Really, Viktor,” she starts, gesticulating with her hands, “I’m so happy for you. You deserve to be happy.” She reaches over and places her hand over his, squeezing slightly. “You deserve _happiness_.”

 

Viktor finds himself overcome with an emotion he can’t quite find the words to explain, but it’s strong— strong enough that his eyes are starting to water. He lets out a raspy laugh, pulling away so he could somehow fathom his emotions.

 

“I really, really like him,” he says, quickly reaching up to brush a tear away from the corner of his eye, and Mila just nods— doesn’t say anything— because she knows. She understands.

 

It’s _happiness_.

 

And Viktor can’t stop smiling.

 

* * *

 

“You should meet him soon,” Viktor says, scooping another forkful of lasagna into his mouth. He chews and swallows before continuing, “I’m actually going to see his show later tonight.”

 

Mila raises her eyebrows at him. “I thought he wasn’t performing at Kachu’s Cabaret today?”

 

“He isn’t,” Viktor says, unlocking his phone and going through his text messages with Yuuri. “He invited me to a show at a different venue this time. It’s only for tonight though.”

 

He pauses and squints at his phone, double-tapping on a photo of the poster Yuuri had sent him. “It’s going to be at PARA//DISE. I googled it and it’s this night club that popped up downtown recently, so I haven’t really been there? I haven’t heard of it ’til now either. Anyways, Yuuri asked me if I wanted to go see his show tonight, and I was like, ‘Are you kidding me? Of course I would!’ So he said he’d have my name added to the list.”

 

Mila reaches out and makes grabby hands, so Viktor hands her the phone.

 

“PARA//DISE,” Mila says, “I’ve heard of this place. I think Jamie did a few striptease performances there. He mentioned it once.”

 

Viktor leans back in his chair and mulls over it. Well, if Yuuri’s going to be performing there, then Viktor will definitely be there to support him! It’s time for an impromptu trip to the bank.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, the Uber Viktor is in rolls up in front of PARA//DISE. He assumed he’d be drinking tonight, so he didn’t want to take any chances by taking his car to the venue. He pays the driver and gets out of the car posthaste, and the first thing he sees is the long line in front of the building. In terms of size, PARA//DISE was a small club— one might even say _intimate_ — and there were restrictions on who could enter the club. He warily eyes the long line wrapping around the block and walks up to the bouncer standing in front of the black double-doors.

 

“Viktor Nikiforov,” he says, and the bouncer glances over at the clipboard in his hand before moving to push the door open. Viktor discreetly makes his way into the club, following the narrow and dimly lidded path leading to the rest of the night club. The bass of the EDM music playing is loud enough that it’s reverberating throughout his chest and already, he can pick up on the faint scent of cigarette smoke and alcohol.

 

He pulls his phone out so he can send Yuuri a quick text.

 

Solnyshko❤️❤️❤️  
  
**Today** 8:42 PM   
I'm here now!  
  
Where are you? I want to see you [kissy-face emoji][kissy-face emoji][kissy-face emoji][kissy-face emoji]  
  


 

Viktor feels almost _giddy_ when he sees Yuuri’s read his message so soon, three dots popping up as he’s typing in his response. Not even a few seconds later, Viktor gets a text from Yuuri.

 

I guess you'll have to sit up front and wait for me then.

 

Viktor casts a glance at the very front of the room, where the stage is. There are already a lot of people occupying the tables around it, all except for a leather armchair right in front of the stage. Just as Viktor is about to walk towards it, he gets another text from Yuuri.

 

And Viktor?  
  
Yes, baby?

 

Yuuri’s response takes no time at all.

 

Don't ever take your eyes off me.

 

Viktor’s heart skips a beat, cheeks flushing red. He licks his lips and his hands are trembling when he types in his reply.

 

Wouldn't dare think of it.

 

Upon reaching the seat, Viktor finds a small white card on top of the low wooden table beside it, ‘ **VIKTOR NIKIFOROV - VIP** ’ embossed in gold. He picks the card up and takes his seat, making himself comfortable in the leather armchair. The main source of light is only from the stage, so it’s a bit hard to see anything that isn’t the performance area, but he tilts the card towards the light and opens it anyway.

 

Written on it is a note from Yuuri.

 

Enjoy the show. ♡ - Eros

 

Viktor can’t help but smile fondly at the note, brushing his thumb over the letters before folding it back up and tucking it into his suit jacket’s front pocket. A server comes up and hands Viktor a leather-bound menu for drinks and cocktails, and since he’s in the mood to relax tonight, Viktor orders a martini to start off the night. The stage is much smaller than the one in Kachu’s, and low enough that one could get on and off-stage with ease. There’s a pole in the middle of the round platform he’s sitting in front of, protruding from a runway that led to the rest of the stage. In the back, he can see two pole dancers writhing to the beat of the music.

 

Not too long after, the server comes back with his drink. With nothing else to do but take sips of his drink, Viktor pulls his phone out again so he can check if Yuuri’s replied to his text. It’s still on ‘Delivered’, so Yuuri must still be preoccupied with preparing for the show. Even though Viktor wishes he could see Yuuri right now, he absolutely _adores_ how passionate Yuuri is about his dancing. It’s rare seeing that level of dedication— not just in dancing, but in anything, period. And he’s certain that whatever routine Yuuri has hidden under his sleeve would be, without the shadow of a doubt, deserving of no less than the centre stage.

 

Viktor goes through their texts for a bit longer, a moony smile on his face, but just for a moment, he feels _off_. Like there’s something churning in the pit of his gut.

 

Someone is watching him.

 

Viktor knits his brows together and glances around. He can barely make anything out, but he _knows_ he can feel someone staring at him. He looks around a bit more, even going as far as to turn around in his seat, but to his dismay, he doesn’t catch whoever had been staring at him. Which is _weird_ , right? That was really weird.

 

He tries to shrug the thought off, knowing it wouldn’t be doing him any good. He’s _here_ tonight in this club, and most importantly, _Yuuri_ is here and about to perform. He doesn’t want any weird vibes to screw anything up. Chances are, he’s probably overthinking things anyway. He’s right in front of the stage, after all. It shouldn’t weird him out if there are people staring at the back of his head or anything.

 

Several minutes later, the lights onstage dim down and a hush falls over the room for a quick second before promptly bursting into raucous hoots and cheers. Viktor cheers too, knowing the show is about to start. His heart starts to race at the very thought of seeing Yuuri. Strobe lights flitter over the crowd, darting across the stage as if searching for something— some _one_.

 

Upbeat EDM music plays on the speakers and along with it is a burst of colour— a kaleidoscope of pinks and purples and blues that have come to life, matching the tempo of the music. It’s a lights show and the first performer comes out onstage, making her way to the pole at the very front of the stage. The diamanté studs on her lingerie glitters with every movement, catching the bright lights just so. The music changes to a slow sultry tune, and she twists and winds her way around the pole. Dollar bills start falling, and within minutes, the stage is covered with all sorts of dollar bills.

 

When the stage had been cleared, the next performer comes in and he’s dressed in a dapper-looking suit. He strips each piece of clothing to the music, and his eyes glaze over Viktor’s for a passing moment before he decides on giving the man on the other side of the room a lap-dance.

 

Several performances pass, Viktor making sure to tip them, but he’s starting to feel a bit restless. He checks his phone again and goes through his notifications, only to see none of them are from Yuuri. He opens up his messages and sees he’s been left on Read just a few minutes ago. Viktor huffs a small sigh and closes his phone. When he glances back up, the stage is being cleared of the dollar bills and the current performer’s being ushered backstage with one of the bouncers, wads of cash tucked into the elastic of their outfit.

 

Music starts to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wfN4PVaOU5Q) and the next performer comes onstage. Viktor’s breath catches in his throat when he realises it’s _Yuuri_ onstage, about to perform. He looks absolutely _gorgeous_ , much like the personification of desire itself. His hair is slicked back, lips glossy, and his brown eyes smoky with dark eyeshadow. He’s dressed in a sheer black robe with a leather bralette underneath, spandex pole shorts, and bright red six-inch platform boots.

 

Yuuri turns so his back is facing the crowd, and with a shrug of his shoulders, the edges of the robe slip off his shoulders. He slowly lowers it down, gradually revealing the expanse of his skin, and the crowd cheers in encouragement and anticipation. When his hands are level with his slim waist, he drops the rest of the robe, falling straight down to the floor and pooling at his feet. He turns his head to the side before the rest of his body follows, facing the audience.

 

It’s subtle, the way Yuuri’s gaze passes over the crowd, but when he catches sight of Viktor sitting up front, the corner of his lip quirks upwards, body language open and beckoning. Viktor’s heart skips a beat at the small action, and in that moment, what Yuuri had texted him earlier comes to him again.

 

 **‘Don’t ever take your eyes off me.** ’

 

Yuuri saunters over to the spin pole at the front of the stage, one foot in front of the other as if walking along an invisible tightrope, his hips swaying as he does so. A woman begins to sing as he reaches for the pole with a regular two-hand grip, and just like that, he’s lifted himself off the ground in a singular, fluid movement, his legs splaying out slightly as he gains more momentum. He twists his legs upwards, body pressed up against the pole as he switches to an invert before he pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his torso around the pole in a crouch spin.

 

Within seconds, it begins to rain money. An endless stream of dollar bills are thrown into Yuuri’s general direction much like confetti. Viktor can’t help but grin, feeling proud of Yuuri, before pulling out a few thick wads of cash he’d set aside for Yuuri’s performance. Without ever looking away, he rips the strips of thin white paper wrapped around the stacks of bills before he pulls a couple of bills out, tossing them onstage as high as he can. He pauses for a moment, breath caught in his throat as he watches Yuuri with awe amidst the endless stream of dollar bills, before reaching down to pull a couple more bills out and throwing them into Yuuri’s direction.

 

But Yuuri doesn’t pay the money any heed, his concentration unwavering as he splays his legs out from his crouch spin so his feet are firmly planted on the floor. He takes a second to adjust his grip on the pole before climbing up, the spin pole spinning him around as he does so. With his shoulder pressed against the pole, he lifts his legs up into an aerial invert, head tipping downwards with his legs above his head. Yuuri presses his legs against the pole and straightens his position from a V-invert to a basic one, legs pressed against the pole by his ankles. He bends one of his legs down into a split invert and the cheers of the crowd only grow louder as he holds that position for a few more seconds before lowering himself back down to the floor.

 

Yuuri presses himself flush against the pole, facing the crowd— facing _Viktor_ — and he _knows_ everyone’s eyes are on him. Bass thumping loudly, Yuuri’s eyes flutter shut as he runs his hands over his chest, over where his nipples should be, and he tilts his chin upwards, exposing the delicate skin of his neck. He runs his hands all the way down his body, slowly crouching down as he spreads his legs apart. He caresses his inner thigh with one hand, the other hand brought up to his lips, suggestively licking his middle and index finger. With that, he’s off, instantly straightening his posture and sauntering down the steps that leads to the rest of the club.

 

All the nearby spectators are quick to offer him tips, wads of bills folded up for the taking, and Yuuri does take the bills from those closest to him, but he doesn’t pay them any attention, only returning to the edge of the stage to toss the crumpled bills on the floor surrounding the pole. He circles the area a bit more, hips swaying as he does so, before he makes his end destination known. He stops just behind Viktor’s chair, placing a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. Viktor’s heart can’t help but skip a beat as he instantly straightens up in his seat, so he could turn to look at Yuuri properly. For the second time that night, their eyes meet, and it’s like the wind had been squeezed clean out of Viktor’s lungs— but in a _good_ way. He’s never felt so— so _captivated_ by someone before, so the intensity of it all has him reeling.

 

Yuuri doesn’t straddle him right away, but instead runs his hand down Viktor’s torso, moving right in front of him before sinking to his knees in one fluid movement. Viktor’s jaw drops as Yuuri leans in closer to Viktor’s crotch, breath lingering and just _barely_ ghosting past the fabric of his pants, before he slowly slinks upwards, his body pressed up against Viktor’s, until Yuuri is seated comfortably in Viktor’s lap.

 

Viktor’s eyes widen in surprise as Yuuri reaches up to grab his tie, pulling him in. With eyes half-mast meeting his, Yuuri grinds down on him in small figures of eight, the friction between them building and his own arousal growing. Viktor’s sorely tempted to touch him, and with a questioning look— and a minute nod of consent on Yuuri’s part— Viktor reaches up and places his hands on Yuuri’s slender waist. Yuuri places a hand on Viktor’s shoulder, firmly keeping him in place, back pinned against the leather armchair, as they ground against each other, Yuuri practically riding him while fully clothed. He uses that same hand to push himself away from Viktor for a moment, hands reaching behind him as he unclasped his bralette, shrugging it off in a fluid motion and haphazardly tossing it aside, revealing two heart-shaped hologram pasties on his chest.

 

And then Yuuri leans in, closer and _closer_ until their lips are just a hair’s breadth away. Viktor gulps, already moving in to close the gap between them, unaware of Yuuri’s hand gliding down his chest, his stomach, and all the way down to his groin. Viktor’s eyes widen in surprise, brought out of his daze when Yuuri pulls away at the very last second, taking the wad of cash in Viktor’s hand before making his way back to the stage, tossing the bills up in the air. There’s a mischievous glint in Yuuri’s eyes as he circles the pole in the middle of the stage, a hint of a smile along the curve of his cherry red lips.

 

He sinks down to his knees for a moment and moves the thick layer of dollar bills surrounding the pole aside, clearing just enough space for him to use the pole properly. He grips the pole with a regular two-hand grip and climbs up, slowly spinning as he does so. He has the pole in-between his arm and the side of his thigh, using that as his grip, before tipping backwards and twisting into a scorpio, still spinning around the pole. He transitions from a scorpio to an aerial invert before carefully lowering himself back down on the floor. Yuuri climbs up the pole again, before he lets his arms carry his weight in an astonishing display of strength as he slowly moves around the pole, a leg straightened and pointing down, while the other is bent at the knee.

 

As the song fades to an end, the room promptly bursts into raucous cheers, more bills tossed into Yuuri’s direction. Yuuri lingers there for a moment, seemingly revelling in the applause. He sends a heated look in Viktor’s direction before focussing on the rest of the audience, giving a quick bow before sauntering offstage. A few people working for the club get onstage and help gather up Yuuri’s tips to give to him later. Viktor’s eyes are still on Yuuri as Yuuri talks to a bouncer, motioning to where Viktor is seated. Yuuri casts Viktor one last glance, an almost serene smile on his lips, before he heads through the door leading backstage.

 

Viktor ensconces himself in his seat, slightly nonplussed. He glances away for a moment, poring over what had just happened, before reaching for his drink and downing it all in one go.

 

Several minutes into the next performance, the bouncer from earlier comes over and taps Viktor on the shoulder. “Eros would like to meet you backstage after the show.” He pauses and motions a server over, who serves Viktor a glass filled with orangey liquid served with ice and garnished with a slice of lime.

 

Viktor blinks at the concoction in confusion. “Oh, I— I didn’t order this—”

 

“Courtesy of Eros.” The server interjects, “A ‘seduction on the rocks’. He requested I serve it to you after his performance.”

 

 _‘Seduction on the rocks’_ ? Viktor’s eyebrows widen at this, in a mixture of both amusement and surprise. As the server and bouncer left, he eyed the drink and bit back a laugh at the sheer _cheekiness_ of it.

 

Well— He couldn’t deny that it was ‘seduction’, alright.

 

Viktor couldn’t wait to see him after the show.

 

* * *

 

With one last song as the show comes to a close, Viktor takes it as his cue to meet Yuuri backstage. He rises to his feet and makes his way to the narrow doorway leading backstage. The bouncer recognises him from earlier and pulls the black curtains back so Viktor can pass through.

 

The narrow pathway is lit with blacklight and it illuminates the fibres of his white button down. He hears murmurs from inside the backstage area and the sound of music onstage is muffled from the inside. Just as he turns a corner leading to the rest of the area, he accidentally bumps into someone, a whirl of blond hair and dark fur passing him.

 

The woman turns to glare at him, irritation evident on her features, before she turns on her heel and continues making her way down the hall. Viktor shrugs it off, wanting to see Yuuri as soon as possible.

 

The backstage area is mostly dark as well, with colourful streaks of light from the stage filtering through the black curtains. Viktor glances around, wondering where Yuuri could be, before he sees a few doors down a corridor located further back, where the dressing rooms probably are. He passes the green room, painted a literal shade of green, and sees ashtrays, half-empty bottles of liquor and different cocktail glasses all over the tempered glass coffee table. Further down the hall, he sees a door slightly ajar with Yuuri’s stage name taped on it. Eros.

 

Viktor smiles, knocking as he gently pushes the door open. He sees Yuuri facing the vanity mirror, the lights illuminating his silhouette. He’s still dressed in what he wore for his performance earlier, along with his robe.

 

“Yuuri, I’m here,” Viktor calls out, and Yuuri flinches in surprise, whirling around to face him. He barely makes eye contact with Viktor before he looks away, reaching up to run the tips of his fingers under his eyes.

 

“V-Viktor,” Yuuri stammers out, and his voice is faint. “I— You’re here.”

 

Yuuri’s behaviour catches Viktor’s attention right away, and the smile on Viktor’s face falters into a look of concern. “ _Solnyshko_ , are you alright?”

 

Yuuri looks like he’s just seen a ghost. He doesn’t reply straight away, instead pausing to take a deep breath. He eventually releases his vice-like grip on the edges of the vanity table, taking a step closer to Viktor. Viktor does the same.

 

“I’m fine, I just— It’s nothing. So don’t worry about it… alright?” He puts on a smile, but it’s frayed at the edges; almost frangible. And Viktor isn’t a hundred percent sure, but he gets the feeling that it wasn’t _him_ Yuuri was trying to reassure, but Yuuri himself. Yuuri presses his lips together and holds his arms out, and Viktor daren’t waste a moment before he envelops Yuuri in a tight hug, holding him close. Viktor doesn’t know what’s wrong, but this could help, right?

 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Yuuri says after a while.

 

Viktor presses their foreheads together, cupping Yuuri’s cheeks and regarding him cautiously. “I am too. Now are you _sure_ you’re okay?”

 

Yuuri nods, wrapping his hand around Viktor’s wrist and leaning into the touch. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

 

They stay silent for a long moment, content with just being close to each other, before Viktor is the first to break the comfortable silence between them.

 

“So,” he starts, eyes alight with mirth. “ _‘Seduction on the rocks’_ , huh?”

 

Yuuri’s face instantly flushes fifty shades crimson as he turns away, shaking his head and burying his face in his hands. “No, don’t! God, it’s so embarrassing!”

 

Viktor laughs, trying to get Yuuri to remove his hands from his face. “What do you mean? No it isn’t!!”

 

“But it _is_ ,” Yuuri whines, shaking his head even more.

 

“Hey, now. For all intents and purposes, I thought it was _very_ cute. And sexy.”

 

Yuuri makes an incoherent grumble, and Viktor pulls Yuuri into his arms again, where Yuuri buries his face into the crook of Viktor’s neck. “Remind me to never do that again.”

 

Viktor makes a sound of mock contemplation. “Hmm. Nah.”

 

Yuuri bursts out laughing and slaps Viktor’s shoulder. “Oh my god—” and this is where Viktor’s laughter turns into a downright _cackle_ — “You’re _terrible_.”

 

“The worst,” Viktor concludes, and they grin at each other.

 

Yuuri bites his bottom lip and stares at Viktor’s mouth, his cheeks still flushed. “Kiss me?”

 

“Gladly,” Viktor says, leaning in to close the gap between them. They both smile into the kiss, Viktor automatically wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s slim waist. Yuuri responds by draping his arms over Viktor’s shoulders, lips parting just the slightest bit. Viktor takes it as his cue to deepen the kiss, running the tip of his tongue along Yuuri’s bottom lip before their tongues brush together. He lets out a deep breath as he gently bites Yuuri’s plush bottom lip, tugging at it before finally pulling away.

 

A breathless laugh escapes his lips, and he feels a little light-headed as he takes back to examine his Yuuri at arm’s length, eyes glazing over with want. He takes Yuuri’s hand into his own, lifting their arms above their head so he could spin Yuuri around.

 

“You’re so _beautiful_ , Yuuri,” Viktor says, tilting his head to the side and raising a finger to his lips in thought. “Though I _have_ to say, it _is_ kinda weird looking up at you like this. You’re actually taller than me for once.”

 

Yuuri shrugs his shoulders, glancing down at his vibrant red heels. “What can I say? They’re six inches high.”

 

Viktor’s eyes widen in amazement. “Wow, six _inches_?”

 

“Not the tallest I’ve worn but…”

 

“Wait, wait, wait— So you’re telling me you’ve walked in heels _taller_ than this?! And the way you performed tonight! Breathtaking! You were absolutely _beautiful_ out there, Yuuri,” Viktor breathes out, drinking the sight of Yuuri in. “You’re perfect.”

 

Yuuri shifts back on his heels and looks away, an incredulous laugh leaving his lips. “I— I’m not perfect.”

 

Already, Viktor can see the telltale blush on Yuuri’s cheeks reddening even further. His voice is coy and teasing as he speaks. “Really now, Yuuri? You could’ve fooled me.“

 

Yuuri snorts, rolling his eyes. “Sure.”

 

They just stare at each other, smiles on their faces, before something in the atmosphere finally shifts. Viktor takes several steps forward until he’s in front of Yuuri, his heart rapidly beating against his chest. Yuuri does nothing, _says_ nothing, save for the uneven breaths leaving his lips.

 

“You really are so beautiful, Yuuri. So perfect,” Viktor murmurs, voice low, running the tips of his fingers along the edges of Yuuri’s robe, just barely brushing against Yuuri’s skin. Without another word, he tugs the sash of Yuuri’s robe down, the flimsy sheer fabric falling down Yuuri’s shoulders. Yuuri doesn’t move, letting it fall straight down to the floor to pool at his feet. “Do you know that, baby?”

 

Yuuri’s breath hitches and he leans in just a fraction, licking his lips. Viktor’s eyes follow the motion. “Why don’t you _show_ me?”

 

They stare at each other for a moment before Yuuri suddenly pulls Viktor in for a fervent kiss, a hand wrapped around Viktor’s slim black tie. Viktor kisses back with equal fervour, Yuuri pulling him in until their bodies are pressed up against each other.

 

Without any prompting, Viktor lifts Yuuri up onto the vanity table, reaching around him so he could push the various bottles and cosmetics away so he could make more room for Yuuri to sit on. Yuuri cups Viktor’s cheeks and deepens their kiss as Viktor fumbles with his suit jacket, managing to pull it off without breaking their kiss. He tosses that somewhere behind him and Yuuri takes it upon himself to undo the buttons on Viktor’s white dress shirt, fingers fumbling around with impatience. He unbuttons them from bottom up, a sigh of content leaving his lips as he runs his hands over the expanse of Viktor’s toned stomach and chest. His hands slowly move downwards towards Viktor’s pants, every sensation going straight down to Viktor’s cock. Their tongues brush together for a brief moment before Viktor pulls away so he can leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses along the line of Yuuri’s neck, revelling in the soft moans he’s eliciting from Yuuri’s lips. He runs his hands up and down Yuuri’s sides, and he just can’t get over how his hands could practically cinch Yuuri’s waist. It’s like Viktor’s hands were _made_ to be there, holding Yuuri close, fucking him up and down onto his cock.

 

“Wait,” Yuuri says, and Viktor instantly snaps out of his train of thought, eyes hazy with pure lust. Yuuri lets out a little breathless laugh and tilts his head to the side, and the very sight of it just takes Viktor’s breath away. Yuuri doesn’t seem to notice, eyes downcast as he reaches behind him to undo his bralette. “Lemme just get rid of this.”

 

“Let me help you—” Viktor interjects, and Yuuri gives him a Look™ before sliding off the vanity table and turning so his back is facing Viktor.

 

Yuuri turns his head to the side, expectant. “I’m _waiting_.”

 

“I’m getting to it, baby,” Viktor says, more than slightly distracted with the sight in front of him. He runs the tips of his fingers along the line of Yuuri’s shoulders, and he _swears_ he can hear and _feel_ Yuuri’s breath hitch. He reaches up and undoes the clasps before thumbing the black zipper.

 

“Sometime this year would be nice,” Yuuri says, tone sarcastic but Viktor can see him smiling.

 

“So impatient, Yuuri,” Viktor chides playfully, punctuating this with a light slap to Yuuri’s Amazing Ass™. He goes on and pulls the zipper down— _slowly_ , just to tease Yuuri a bit more.

 

Once it’s done, Yuuri shrugs his bralette off and places it on top of the vanity table, and Viktor can see in the mirror’s reflection the pasties from earlier are already gone. Viktor takes a moment to admire Yuuri a bit more, gently running his middle knuckles up and down Yuuri’s spine. Yuuri lets out a gasp and he visibly shivers at the touch.

 

Viktor presses a kiss to Yuuri’s shoulder blade and reaches around so he could cup Yuuri’s nipples, rubbing slow, languid circles. Yuuri leans into his touch and presses himself up against Viktor, subtly grinding up against him. Viktor returns the gesture, adding more friction between them as one hand slides down Yuuri’s smooth stomach to play with the waistband of Yuuri’s pole shorts.

 

“Can I?” Viktor asks.

 

Yuuri nods instantly, reaching down so he could hook his thumbs into the waistband himself. “Ngh, _yes_ ,” he gasps out, tugging his shorts down. The elastic band catches at the top of his ass, digging into his creamy skin.

 

“You’re so fucking _hot_ , baby,” Viktor says, helping Yuuri out of his pole shorts. They pool at his feet and Yuuri steps out of them, turning to face Viktor again. Viktor smiles at him, expression tender, before pressing their lips together.

 

Viktor guides the both of them to a chaise longue tucked into the corner of the room, covered with various throw pillows. He moves to push Yuuri down onto the chaise longue, but Yuuri firmly grips Viktor’s arms, shaking his head. Viktor raises his eyebrows in alarm. “No?”

 

“Nuh-uh,” Yuuri says, taking a moment to grab a clean white robe off the wooden coffee table in front of the seat, before draping it on top of the red velvet fabric. “I don’t wanna know what ‘ _mysterious substances_ ’ have been on this chair and I don’t wanna find out.”

 

Viktor lets out a lovestruck sigh. “You’re _adorable_ , Yuuri.”

 

When Yuuri finishes smoothing out the fabric, he plops down on the chair and crosses one leg over the other, heels dangling dangerously close to the coffee table, and he looks at Viktor expectantly. “Well?”

 

“‘Well’, what?” Viktor asks, distracted by the sight that’s right in front of him. Yuuri looks like a wet dream come to life, chocolate brown eyes dark and hazed with want, the way his plush lips are parted just so— _fuck_. He pulls the small travel-sized bottle of lube from his pocket and snaps the cap open with one hand, and Yuuri lets out a small noise, turning so he can lay on his stomach on the chaise longue.

 

“Eager now, are we, _solnyshko_?” Viktor teases, using his other hand to expertly free himself from his belt and trousers. He pulls his length out of his boxer briefs and lets out a sharp exhale at the feeling, slowly stroking himself to full hardness, rounding up to a perfect ten inches. He places one knee on the chaise longue, pressed up against the back of the couch, Yuuri right in between his legs. He runs the tip of his cock along the line of Yuuri’s ass, smudging drops of pre-cum against his skin, before slapping his dick against Yuuri’s pert ass, revelling in the way it’d bounce upon impact. Yuuri lets out a soft moan, shifting up against Viktor’s cock, as if he wants to take more of him in.

 

Viktor runs the tips of his fingers along Yuuri’s spine, revelling in the way Yuuri would shiver as his fingers went down further. Viktor can practically hear his own heartbeat, squeezing a generous amount of lube onto his hand before closing the cap and haphazardly tossing it onto the coffee table. He warms the lube up in his hands before grabbing two handfuls of Yuuri’s ass. He gives them a firm squeeze and spreads them open, letting out a groan the moment he sees Yuuri’s entrance. Viktor brushes the pad of his thumb against Yuuri’s pink hole, teasing, and slicking it up with lube. He brings his hand down, his other hand on the back of Yuuri’s upper thigh, gently urging Yuuri to spread his legs a little bit more, and slowly begins to rub Yuuri’s perineum with his thumb, steadily adding more and more pressure to it.

 

Yuuri moans, arching his back and pressing himself against Viktor’s hand. Viktor gives Yuuri’s ass another quick slap before spreading Yuuri’s asscheeks open, lining his cock up with the line of Yuuri’s ass. In slow, languid motions, he grabs hold of his dick and teases Yuuri’s entrance with his cockhead, with just enough pressure so he wouldn’t slide into him.

 

“Come on, Viktor,” Yuuri says, impatience evident in his tone. “Put it in. _Fuck me_.”

 

Viktor’s eyes flutter shut and he groans, another bead of pre-come dribbling down his cock. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you, _solnyshko_?” When he opens his eyes again, he meets Yuuri’s eyes, glazed over with lust, as Yuuri glances at him over his shoulder. Yuuri lifts his hips up just a fraction, and Viktor’s in the perfect position to enter him— but he doesn’t. “Yuuri, I… I want to fuck you properly for our first time, _solnyshko_. And I don’t know about you, but that means a _proper_ bed, and not some dirty couch. You deserve better than that, don’t you, baby?”

 

“Gee, what a romantic,” Yuuri says, his voice deadpan. His expression turns heated, eyes narrowing a fraction as if daring Viktor to deny him once more. “ _Fine_. But next time, I want you in me.”

 

Viktor gulps, his cock twitching in interest. Suddenly the room is so much more warmer than it was just a moment ago.

 

“God, Yuuri,” he gasps out, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

 

Viktor takes hold of his cock and it slides in between Yuuri’s thick thighs with ease, and already, he can feel Yuuri’s thighs squeezing around his cock slightly— just enough for it to add a teasing, constant pressure but not enough for it to actually hurt. He lets out a groan, jaw clenched, as he grips at Yuuri’s hips for more control, before he thrusts into the tight gap between Yuuri’s thighs once more, revelling in the way Yuuri’s thighs feel. He leans over and presses hot, open-mouthed kisses all over Yuuri’s bare back, barely managing to remember he isn’t supposed to leave any marks on Yuuri’s skin.

 

With a slightly uncoordinated thrust just as Viktor laps at the line of Yuuri’s neck, his cock ends up slipping out, bobbing upwards and resting atop Yuuri’s ass. He pulls away, resting on his knees, and revels in the sight of Yuuri’s Amazing Ass™. He places his hands on Yuuri’s cheeks before squeezing, sliding his cock in between Yuuri’s ass cheeks. He slowly slides his dick up and down, mesmerised by the very sight and sounds of pleasure he elicited from Yuuri’s lips. He presses Yuuri’s ass cheeks together and starts thrusting, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, along with their moans slowly rising in pitch. God, he just feels so _amazing_. Everything about _Yuuri_ is amazing.

 

“Fuck, Yuuri, I’m close,” Viktor rasps out, hips stuttering as he thrusts back and forth even faster, beads of sweat adorning his brow.

 

Yuuri glances over his shoulder and looks at him, hair dishevelled and his face flushed a deep shade of red. His eyes are hazy as he speaks. “Then come for me, Viktor. Cover me with your cum. I want it.”

 

With another thrust, he finds himself at the very brink and ends up spilling thick ropes of cum all over the small of Yuuri’s back, gripping Yuuri’s slim waist as he thrusts his orgasm out. He lets out a ragged breath at the very sight of it, his mouth running dry. Without any prompting at all, he reaches forward and rubs his cum into Yuuri’s skin, covering his back and thoroughly marking him.

 

“ _Gospodi_ , Yuuri, you’re fucking gorgeous. You like being covered in my cum? How naughty of you, _solnyshko_.”

 

Yuuri lets out a breathless laugh as Viktor flips him over onto his back so he could kiss him. “You don’t seem to mind, though.”

 

Viktor presses their lips together and hums. “No, I don’t. I love it, actually.”

 

He runs his hands down Yuuri’s torso and guides his hands all the way down to Yuuri’s inner thighs before spreading Yuuri’s legs to either side of him. Viktor reaches for the bottle of lube again and squeezes a generous amount onto his hand, warming it up in his palms.

 

“Did you change your mind?” Yuuri asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. There’s a coy smirk playing on his lips. “Are you gonna fuck me now?”

 

Viktor gives him a Look™, thoroughly slicking his fingers up before circling the rim of Yuuri’s entrance, the tip of his index finger slowly dipping into Yuuri’s tight heat. Yuuri lets out a deep breath, looking Viktor straight in the eye, kiss-swollen lips parted. Viktor stretches Yuuri out carefully, starting with one finger, then two, his fingers probing around for Yuuri’s prostate.

 

He inches down the chaise lounge, still keeping eye contact with Yuuri before he reaches for Yuuri’s still hard cock with his free hand, stroking it back up to full hardness again. He takes the tip of Yuuri’s cock into his mouth, tongue swirling around the beads of precum, before taking more of Yuuri’s length in until he’s reached the base of Yuuri’s cock in one smooth slide.

 

Yuuri throws his head back and lets out a moan, legs jerking up in reflex. He can feel Yuuri clenching and unclenching around him with every move he makes. “Ngh, Viktor, _please_ …”

 

Viktor brushes against a particular spot inside him that elicits a choked whimper from Yuuri’s lips, and in that instant, it tips him off that he’s found Yuuri’s prostate. He begins to press into the sensitive gland with a steady and insistent pressure, practically _massaging_ it, and revels in the litany of moans leaving Yuuri’s lips.

 

Viktor just _knows_ what’s about to come (literally) the moment Yuuri tenses up, and without missing a beat, he swallows down all of Yuuri’s cum spilling down his throat. He pulls away, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. He draws his fingers out of Yuuri’s hole, dripping with lube, and Yuuri shivers at the sudden loss, placing a hand on his inner thigh.

 

They take a moment to catch their breaths, Viktor slumping against the chaise longue while Yuuri stares up at the ceiling.

 

“I’ll help you clean up,” Viktor says after a while, letting out another breath before rising to his feet. He makes his way to the dresser table they’ve so thoroughly left in disarray, picking up a box of facial tissues that had fallen to the floor. He grabs a few tissues and heads to the small en suite connected to the room, soaking up the tissues so he could wipe Yuuri off. When he walks back into the room, Yuuri’s made no move to get up, still completely free of any clothing.

 

He catches Viktor staring in an instant, but instead of shying away, he seems open and at ease with himself as he is, and even turns so he’s facing Viktor entirely.

 

Yuuri’s smiling at him, mirth evident in his warm brown eyes. “Like what you see?”

 

Viktor chuckles, motioning for Yuuri to turn around so he could wipe down Yuuri’s back. He does just that. “More than you’ll ever know.”

 

* * *

 

After they clean up and get dressed, Viktor and Yuuri end up hanging out on the chaise longue for a while, Yuuri sitting comfortably on Viktor’s lap as they search up nearby restaurants that could still be open this late. There are two empty flute glasses on the coffee table, and a bucket filled with ice water and a half-empty bottle of champagne.

 

“I can’t think of any restaurants that could be open at this hour that _isn’t_ fast food.” Yuuri says, going through the list of closed restaurants on Google maps. “Guess you’ll just have to suck it up and eat a 20-piece McNuggets with me.”

 

Viktor makes a sound of displeasure, burying his face into Yuuri’s hair.

 

“Chicken nuggets taste good, though.” Yuuri tries again, and Viktor can practically _hear_ the smile in Yuuri’s voice. He can’t help but smile as well, kissing Yuuri’s temple.

 

“I know, Yuuri, but I really, _really_ want to take you out to dinner… to somewhere _nice_ , for once.”

 

“So no McDonald’s then?”

 

Viktor’s expression turns sheepish, absently rubbing circles onto Yuuri’s waist. “Maybe later. What do you wanna do now, _solnyshko_?”

 

He stays silent for a while, mulling over it, before he opens his mouth to speak. “Hmm. I dunno. I can’t really think of anything right now.”

 

Yuuri snuggles in closer to Viktor’s chest and Viktor’s more than happy to wrap his arms around him, feeling sated and content. “Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song:  
> [Needed Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wfN4PVaOU5Q) by Rihanna
> 
> \- Czech spa massages are an actual porn thing jsyk  
> \- I asked Phyxie to choose between 69-ing and a buttjob so I guess now we know what won out lol
> 
> Hey guys!! It’s been a really long time since I last updated, I know and I'm really sorry OTL
> 
> I spent most of August working on my entry for the YSB, and it’s a mafia/soulmate AU called ‘In Honour Of The Lambs Led Astray’, and if you’d like, you can read it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11956371/chapters/27034515).
> 
> Then I promptly proceeded to fall off the face of the earth after that.
> 
> No really, I took a much needed break from writing this story because I started to get really anxious about it, and actually a huge part of me wanted to delete this story entirely because I felt like my story wasn’t good enough or worth reading anyway, so what’s the point, right? Yeah, it was THAT bad. I even considered leaving the fandom bc I felt like I wasn’t good enough. It’s why I haven’t been active on tumblr anymore, though I’m kinda? on twitter now. (If you’d like, feel free to just @ me on there! I’d love to talk to you guys!)
> 
> By the time I got out of that slump, I was too caught up in schoolwork so I couldn’t write OTL but I managed! Somewhat? I graduated just last Friday, so I finally took the time to finish this WIP I've had for several months.
> 
> Either way, I’m glad I took a break instead of deleting. I’d remember those who’d comment on each and every chapter, whose names I remembered, and I didn’t want to disappoint you just because I felt like I’d disappointed myself.
> 
> And if you guys are still here reading this note, then I just want you to know that I love and appreciate all of you. Thank you so much for your support ❤️ And thank you for being so patient with me.
> 
> Please leave a kudos and comment? I’d love to hear what you guys think. I’ll try to get back into the swing of things as well, I promise. Hope to see you guys again soon!
> 
> art by Bullsfish [here](https://bullsfish.tumblr.com/post/160912293319/victor-is-thirsty-af-for-yuuri-sex-on-legs-katsuki)
> 
> And!! New art!!!! [heart eyez emoji x1000!!!!]
> 
> art by Amanda Huddleston [here](https://www.instagram.com/p/BXjvizzFjoD/)  
> art by hana_tox [here](https://twitter.com/hana_tox/status/918499494051721216) (commission!)  
> art by Euphonnias [here](https://twitter.com/euphonnias/status/932244296954142721)
> 
> [tumblr](http://ragdollyouth.tumblr.com/)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/katsukidon_)

**Author's Note:**

> HAHAHA so yesterday i was like having this all nighter and just when i was about to crash at like 5 am and sleep for an hour, i got THIS idea in my head and i couldn't shake it off so now here it is OTL
> 
> AND YES I KNOW, i'm still gonna work on Never Lose Your Flames (in fact i'm almost done w ch 4) ofc but I just needed to get this out of my system for a bit
> 
> tell me what u guys think!!! leave a comment or a kudos, i love those haha

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [For the Camera](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10206422) by [Noon30ish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noon30ish/pseuds/Noon30ish)




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